Too Close For Comfort
by lovesreina
Summary: A/U, B/V; Bulma leaves Capsule Corp to prove she can live on her own. She expects immediate acceptance but instead finds that the real world is a cruel place with few comforts and nothing is ever what it seems, especially when Vegeta is your boss!
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Dragonball Z, Akira Toriyama does. I'm not Akira Toriyama. Just to clear up any confusion.

SUMMARY: A/U, B/V; Bulma leaves Capsule Corp to prove she can live and work on her own. She expects immediate acceptance but instead finds that the real world is a cruel place with few comforts and nothing is ever what it seems, especially when Vegeta is your boss!

-This fic is being posted for the first time on . I originally posted this back on years ago, but I've renewed my interest in it and have decided to revise it and continue it, since it had remained unfinished for a few years. I hope that you enjoy it. Please read and review!-

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><p><strong>Too Close For Comfort<strong>

**Prologue**

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><p>-<strong>26 floors up in the main building of Seiya Corp.<strong>-

"These files here are from the Stewart account, delivered from the head office. He wants the mistakes marked to be taken care of immediately. Goku asked me on the way in for you to check your e-mail, he said it was important. Here are some memos that were on your door, and here's your coffee!... Mr. Vegeta, sir?"

With a dismissive look, a man with wild jet black hair waved away his assistant. Wearing a well-fitted black pinstripe suit, he scanned his dark eyes over the papers the assistant had plopped down on his desk. He had been so distracted he didn't notice that the blonde-haired girl still stood there, staring at him intently. Almost as if he could feel the sudden burn of her gaze, he suddenly looked up and noticed her undivided attention was still directed at him and he gave her an indignant glare.

"Leave!" The man ordered fiercely. He watched with mild interest as the young woman scurried out of his office, looking back with a blush gracing her cheeks. As she pushed open the glass door to exit, another man, Goku, was just coming in, so she muttered a flustered "Excuse me...", squeezing past him and scampering off. Goku stood in the doorway, innocently watching her disappear around the corner. He shook his head with wonder and smiled.

"That's the new one, huh?" He laughed. Making himself comfortable in a chair opposite Vegeta's huge desk, he craned his neck back to see if the girl was still visible and shook his head again with amusement at how fast she managed to transport herself to the other side of the office just in a matter of seconds. The man opposite him nodded wordlessly, a grim look on his face.

Goku noticed that his cold glare was a bit more icy that usual, and decided to ask anyway even though he knew Vegeta was not fond of questions, and was notorious for his short temper. "What's up, Vegeta?"

The irritated man sitting behind the desk looked through the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the wall facing the office. Briefly scanning the office and noticing nothing suspicious, and also noting that there was no one nearby, he muttered quietly, "I have to get her away from me."

"What?" Goku wore a confused frown.

Vegeta rolled his eyes at the prospect of having to continue his explanation, but went on regardless. "She never leaves me alone. She's constantly staring at me through the window and whenever I dismiss her she just stands there like an idiot."

Goku lifted an eyebrow doubtfully. "Really? That's it? That's why you don't like her?"

"It's creepy, Kakarott. I should have kept those damned shades." Vegeta spat with a disturbed look on his face, holding his head in a manner that made it look as if he were still shielding himself from her gaze from across the office.

"I guess it could be creepy..." Goku agreed, still a little doubtful of his friend's somewhat paranoid observations.

"...And her coffee sucks." Vegeta added, after thinking for a moment.

Goku sighed. "Vegeta, everyone gets that coffee. That's the break room coffee."

Vegeta's patience was wearing thin. "That's some defense. Does the fact that everyone gets it stop it from sucking? No. It tastes like shit." He growled.

"Well, we do deserve better coffee." Goku agreed. Vegeta knew that once he brought up evidence of poorly made food or beverages made by his new assistant's hand, Kakarott was sure to be on his side in the matter.

"I think I'm going to replace her and get another one." Vegeta mumbled with indifference, absently checking his watch and then comparing it with the atomic clock above his door.

Goku was alarmed. He had thought that Vegeta was just blowing off steam, but now it was getting serious. He was not looking forward to whatever conversation that would follow, but he lost his grip and had to speak his mind. "You can't just replace her, Vegeta! We just got her a month ago! The one before that didn't last that long, either. Poor girls..." Gears of realization were spinning in Goku's head. "Come to think of it, you've had six this year, so far, and-"

"Fucking...Vegeta grumbled under his breath as his counterpart continued prattling on. He didn't need to hear the rest of Kakarott's particular train of thought, for he already knew he was being quite hard on his last few assistants. 適akarott! Who picks out your ties?" Vegeta expertly shifted Goku's attentions, which wasn't difficult as the easily distracted man looked down at his tie and then up at Vegeta bashfully.

"I do... And you know I've told you a zillion times not to call me that..."

"Christ, no wonder." Vegeta scoffed. "I'm-" He stopped. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a woman with long dark hair waving through the glass door. He raised his eyebrows signifying that she had gotten his attention and she mouthed something to him in response. Noticing Vegeta's strange behavior, Goku shifted around in his chair and watched the exchange with unexpected interest.

Vegeta clenched his teeth in irritation. He hated it when people tried to mouth words to him through the glass because it wasn't soundproof, and he could easily hear them if they just spoke loud enough. _Not again..._

With a stubborn sigh, he beckoned her in and she popped her head in, her mouth agape, about to speak, but he immediately put his hand up and interrupted her with a question that he found necessary to ask her every time she entered his office.

"Is it important?" The young woman nodded fervently, her eyes worried. He rolled his eyes with annoyance. "Kakarott, out." Goku bolted to the door and held it open for the woman. She walked in with purpose, wearing a white blouse and a black vest with a matching black skirt that fell to her knees. He stood frozen at the exit as the girl sat down in the squishy chair that he had just left vacant. As he stood transfixed, Vegeta shot him an expectant look with his hand out, and Goku zipped out in response.

Bracing himself, Vegeta reclined in his comfortably flexible rolly-chair and propped his feet on the top of his desk casually, looking at the black-haired woman. She didn't speak and instead looked at Goku walking back to his desk through the transparent walls.

"What is it, Chichi." It was less like a question and more like an exasperated statement, said so many times that he didn't bother to attach meaning to the words any longer.

Chichi quickly turned her head and glared directly at Vegeta, a feat that few women in the office could accomplish without being berated. "Don't say it like that. You act like I come into your office every day asking for something," A look of pure insult crossed her features.

'_But you DO come in here every day asking me for something,_' Vegeta thought, rubbing his forehead. May it be printer paper or a pen or asking to go get a snack, the woman never ceased to bother him for the most inane reasons. He felt the majority of her interruptions were unnecessary. He was sure that there was some method behind her frequent visits, but he had yet to discover the root of her never-ending problems, but he had plenty of suspicions. A blanket of silence enveloped the room and Chichi finally took it upon herself to end it, as one of Vegeta's most successful methods of torture was awkward silence.

"I need a favor, Vegeta." Chichi asked quietly. Vegeta immediately perked up.

"That's_ Prince_ Vegeta if you're going to go about asking for favors," He smirked. Chichi let out a huff.

"I'm serious! Hear me out, you wont regret it." Vegeta was definitely not convinced, but he said nothing, giving her the sign to keep talking. "A friend of mine needs a job. No wait, no wait, she's really good. Too good, even. She's extremely qualified for any job you're willing to give her. I know we're not exactly holding job fairs here and I understand that, but if you give her a chance you will definitely not regret it. I swear on my job." Chichi explained in complete seriousness.

Vegeta was certainly surprised. Chichi took her job quite seriously and wouldn't risk it on just anyone. As he thought, his face remained stony and unreadable, and to an untrained eye, his expression could be perceived as indifference.

"Who's your friend? How am I to know she is trustworthy?"

"Call her in for an interview. I could e-mail you her resume. You won't be disappointed." Chichi stated firmly with confidence. He was silent for awhile, just staring at her, then averting his eyes out towards the office for a moment, and then back to her.

"I'll think about it," He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Chichi immediately lit up with excitement. If he didn't outright deny it, then she really had a chance!

"Thanks, Vegeta! You really wont regret it, seriously! I wont bother you anymore today, okay? I'll-"

"LEAVE." Vegeta snapped.

"Uh, ok." She scrambled out of his office, almost knocking over Nancy holding a stack of papers. Running and walking briskly were the most common exit methods employees had adopted since Vegeta became supervisor of the department. Sometimes the younger girls that were hired fresh out of college came out of his office sobbing, tears streaming down their faces as they tried to explain what had happened, but most of the time it was his silence and intimidating presence that had broken them down in the end. Few dared to cross him.

After flipping through the papers on his desk with distaste, he began typing up a report of his uneventful morning. As his fingers swiftly glided across the keyboard, he pondered Chichi's request. Annoying interruptions aside, she was good at what she did and because of her impressive proof-reading skills he had all reports clear through her first. Essentially, she was the second-in-command of his department, regardless of how much she irritated him. Anyone that came with her recommendation was probably worthwhile, yet could have the potential to be just as irritating if they happened to be friends.

Whoever this person was, she sounded promising, but her success in the department strongly depended on her overall ability to follow his orders to the letter and recognize his high expectations. Just where would he put her, though...?

Finishing up the report, Vegeta had tossed the idea around in his mind for awhile and decided to check out this person who came with such praise from one of his most diligent employees. He begrudgingly typed up his e-mail to Chichi asking for the resume.

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><p>Not far from town, an apartment complex sat alone and pathetic, overshadowed by the neighboring hill that seemed to obliterate all sunshine from half the building, giving the complex a neglected look. Bulma accidentally neglected it a bit herself and drove straight past it, but she quickly forgave herself of the mistake as she saw that the hill had blocked it from the road and she had no way of seeing it.<p>

She sighed with frustration. '_This had better be worth it,' _she thought as she turned the car around with an irritated flick of her wrist.

The building itself was far from the descriptions placed in local property ads. Bulma immediately felt that the adjective 'secluded' was a severe understatement. The complex looked strange, like it was about to be swallowed by the immense hill. She raked her mind for a memory of whether or not the apartment she called about was high up enough to face the town or not, because if it wasn't, she wouldn't get the expected view of the sprawling urban landscape and instead an eyeful of the hulking wall of grass.

She stopped in the parking lot and turned off the ignition. She took a deep breath and checked her makeup with a look in the rear-view mirror, and decided that it was gorgeous as always. She stepped out of the car and made her way to the entrance of the large building. After pressing the buzzer for the main office and waiting for a moment, she walked back so she could look up at the complex and see it in its entirety. It had appeared so much smaller from the road and she was surprised by how large it was up close. Counting windows, she realized that the apartment she had inquired about was on the top floor. She only hoped that there were elevators. Did apartment complexes have penthouse suites? If so, she totally wanted in on that... Nothing but the best for Bulma Breifs!

A sharp buzz snapped her out of her contemplations and she ran back to the door so that it would not lock itself back before she opened it. She stepped in and a refreshing blast of cool air blew across her body.

The lobby, or entrance hallway more like, was bland and had little decoration besides some potted plants, but it served its purpose, she supposed. In the reflection of one of the elevators, she adjusted her skirt down a bit, out of nervous habit. She had never been in a place like this before and she was unsure of how to handle herself, but to her immediate relief an elevator door opened and a kind looking middle-aged man dressed in business casual stepped out. He approached her with a benevolent smile and an extended hand, and Bulma shook it with an equally practiced smile of her own.

"Ah, Ms. Bulma Briefs! A true pleasure to meet you. I'm Mark Collins."

"Oh, yes! We spoke on the phone earlier!" She answered, mentally filing away his name.

"We certainly did... You expressed an interest in one of our apartments?" Bulma confirmed his statement and she immediately began to talk business. To her surprise, the agent was fully willing to discuss every aspect of the complex, good and bad, and was glad that he hadn't tried to swindle her as she, in all honesty, didn't really know what she was doing. When she asked to see the apartment he beckoned her to the elevator, maintaining polite conversation.

Through her successful and productive experience as department head at Capsule Corp, Bulma had mastered the art of polite conversation and could keep it up with the minimum amount of attention required. Instead of listening to the agent's empty words she listened to the mind-numbing music and focused on the elevator buttons. Some were broken, or had different numbers written on in permanent marker. Not such a good sign. The ascending lights finally halted at the tenth floor, and with the sound of a bell, the agent stepped out. She stood there motionless, staring into space.

"We're here!" He said kindly, and Bulma woke from her daze, glad that the guy was nice enough not to wave his hand in front of her face like she was an idiot.

_I'm way more out of it than I thought. _She shook her head and gave him an appreciative smile, stepping out the lift. The moment that the doors closed behind her she felt a strange weight press down on her shoulders. The feeling of the place was a bit odd, but Bulma assumed that it was just her nerves getting to her.

As she followed the agent and took a look around, she sighed in disappointment, careful not to be heard. She knew that most apartment complexes looked like this and were usually not spacious or private at all, yet she couldn't help but feel isolated and out of place in the unfamiliar territory. She wrinkled her nose as she noticed that the hallways were open to the outside, almost like a motel, and the hallway itself managed to keep a dank quality that darkly contrasted with the vibrant weather. She was not pleased, but deep down she knew that at this point in her life she would have to learn to start accepting that she wouldn't be able to afford any better than the options now laid before her. _I'll guess I'll have to forget about that penthouse suite..._

As they walked she zoned out on the agent again, and remained staring down at the cemented floor as he talked about something or other.

She awoke from her daze once again as the sound of a slamming door shocked her senses, and a sudden movement caught her eye. She exhaled as she noticed that it was just someone exiting their apartment. A man carrying a briefcase locked his apartment door, then abruptly pivoted in their direction and walked past them. He did not glance at her, and she didn't pay much mind either as her attentions were drawn elsewhere.

"Here's the apartment," Mark, the agent, got out the key and jostled the door with some difficulty, finally having to ram his shoulder into it for it to open. After assuring her that they would definitely fix the door if she did happen to be interested (Bulma muttered an inaudible sarcastic remark in response), he invited her in with a sweeping arm movement as if she were being invited in to a mansion rather than a one-bedroom apartment.

She walked in and scanned the room, her cerulean eyes observing every detail. She walked around the whole place slowly, examining every cabinet, nook, closet and cranny. Bulma stopped in the living room by the balcony, noticing thankfully that she could see part of the town over the massive hill.

Having surveyed the entire place, she found it safe to say that there was absolutely nothing special or unique about it. Everything simply _reeked_ of mediocrity, emanating the feel of the average lifestyle that Bulma had never experienced in her 26 years of living. As she was exempt from those experiences of hardship, rather than feeling fortunate for her cushy lifestyle, she recently started to feel left out. Others who had lived through entire lives of misfortune were inured to anything that life threw at them because they had already seen it all, and Bulma lacked this strength and would probably never be able to possess it fully for herself. She tended to use her pride as her shield instead, but she had learned that it could not protect her from those she had already let behind it.

She wanted to prove that she wasn't a spoiled brat, and not stuck-up either, even if she was a little vain. She wanted to earn her stars and discover what she had been blissfully ignorant of when she was young, even if she had to start from scratch.

_This is my chance. _

"Do you like it?" The agent inquired fervently after a long period of silence as he had watched her look around. He found it saddening that she wasn't bursting with questions because that would have been the telltale sign that she was interested.

Bulma said nothing for a moment, feeling the popcorn texture of the wall. Still peering around at the walls curiously, she asked, "When did the previous tenant move out?"

"About four or five months ago, but we haven't neglected the apartment in the least. It's all in working order and we have kept it very clean." The agent assured her. '_Yeah, except for the door,' _they both thought simultaneously.

"You haven't been able to find another tenant?" She asked, becoming a little skeptical. The city was overcrowded, and leases were quickly snatched up by those eager to live near the city. All of the other apartments she had visited had been complete dumps because they were the properties that no one wanted. The agent was very kind and was obviously very experienced, so she put two and two together and figured that there must be something wrong with the property and wasn't afraid to ask.

"Oh, Ms. Breifs, it's nothing like what you're thinking. There's nothing broken in this apartment, besides the door, of course." She stifled a giggle at what she was sure they had both been thinking, but only he had the sincerity to say it himself. "It's not like someone's been murdered in it. It's just a tough property.

"Really? No one? That's too said with a little laugh, happy that the agent had caught her joke and laughed as well.

"Hey, maybe if someone had been murdered in it, I would have leased it already! You'd be surprised at what interests people."

"Well, I suppose the market has been declining lately..." She mused.

The agent cracked a smile. "I didn't want to say as much. Pessimism doesn't help me sell a thing, unless my client is a cynic."

"Who's to say I'm not? If that pessimism led you to murder, maybe you could make some money." Bulma joked darkly. The agent chuckled, and so did Bulma. It had been awhile since she had really laughed, even if it was something silly with someone she didn't know very well. She had been too busy and stressed to find something funny about anything, and was glad that some of her tension had lifted.

He nodded. "I figured you'd be a tough sell." Bulma somehow found herself finding that strangely funny and laughed. She knew that her more forward personality and professionalism could scare off almost anyone. "With all the pressure on you as the young heir of Capsule Corp, and all." Bulma's face fell for a moment but she managed to muster a small smile.

"It's tough work. Everyone expects so much of you..." She trailed off for a moment. The agent looked concerned for a moment, but as Bulma snapped herself out of her reverie and returned to her professional demeanor, he managed to change the subject.

"So, how do you like it?" He asked again, yet not in a pestering or impatient manner.

"I love it, actually. Too bad no one's been killed in it otherwise we'd be signing the contract already."

"That's great!" The agent chuckled almost incredulously. Maybe his luck was turning around. "How about we-"

"I'll take it." She decided. She knew that this is what she wanted. What she needed to prove herself.

Bulma was desperate. If she didn't take the step now, she knew she never would.

Bulma capped the pen triumphantly with a smirk of self-satisfaction.

"Done?" Mark asked politely. She nodded and handed him the contract. She had looked over every little detail on it, not wanting to miss a single loophole. Everything looked to be in order, to her relief. She even found the rent to be pretty reasonable. He looked over the documents, and as everything was in order, he informed her that she could move in a couple of days and he would notify her. She thanked him again and shook his hand once again, and then waving goodbye.

She walked to her car, humming a song she didn't know the name of. She was elated. More happy than she had been since the day she left home, in fact, but that was a strange sort of happy. Getting in her car, she took off her high-heels and tossed them in the backseat. It was when she had backed up, pulled out of the parking lot and began driving down the road that a wave of guilt crashed down on her. She would be staying at Chichi's tonight. Again.

Bulma ground out a small sound of frustration. Chichi had been constantly reassuring her that staying with her was not a problem at all, but she felt like a fool moving out of her home just to crash at her best friend's house. 'Hypocrite,' she thought to herself. Wasn't this whole transition supposed to be about becoming independent? Learning to work for herself and live in the real world, unassisted by anyone? She would rather sleep in her car than feel the impending shame take her over from indulging in Chichi's assistance and being a hindrance.

Bulma continued to drive to Chichi's house with chagrin. Regardless of her pride, she realized that she truly did not have anywhere else to go. Except for home, which was not an option. She would have to stop by sometime in the next couple days to pick up a few things. She wanted to be able to sneak in when nobody was home to avoid any confrontation, but knowing her luck, she would run into her least favorite person there.

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><p>AN: Hope you liked it! Write a review if you feel like it, but I'll probably feel more encouraged to keep updating if I know that people are actually reading it. Please give me some feedback! The beginning is a bit slow and lacking some personality on Bulma and Chichi's part, but next chapter it'll pick up quite a bit.

Thanks for reading.


	2. The Seiya Corporation

Disclaimer; I don't own it! Not even a slice! Poor me. ):

A/N: Yay, new chapter! Thanks for the reviews from chibij and an anonymous person! It makes me really happy to hear that this is unlike most V/B fics, because it's one thing if I tell myself that but quite another if a reader does. I really appreciate it.

11/21/11 - Revised again for continuity and story flow.

**Too Close For Comfort**

**Chapter One : The Seiya Corporation**

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><p>"Bulma?"<p>

Bulma stirred and awoke immediately at the worried tone of her friend. Judging by Chichi's smile, she could tell it was nothing serious, so she quickly relaxed and languidly rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, shooting her companion a sheepish smile at being caught in the act.

"Asleep on my couch again?" Chichi asked playfully, sitting down next to her friend. Bulma was beginning to become notorious for making a total mess and then crashing on her furniture. Chichi's hair was down from her businesslike bun and was swept over one shoulder. Regardless of her relaxed state, Bulma could tell just how tired her friend was.

"What time is it?" Bulma yawned mid-sentence but still managed to make her question understandable.

"Late." Chichi was deadpan.

"Well, you-" Bulma stopped and looked down at herself. She was wearing only her white blouse and panties and the remains of her suit was strewn across the floor. The TV was blaring some late night talk show and her hand had an imprint where she had slept with the remote clutched in her grasp. Chichi stifled a laugh from looking at Bulma's dumbstruck expression and got up to turn off the television.

"You were OUT, you crazy girl." Chichi shook her head. Bulma sat up on the couch for a moment, thinking about her day, trying to remember that one important thing she did that day, and then finally she broke into an ecstatic smile.

"Oh, I have news!" Bulma shrieked excitedly. Chichi broke into a grin.

"Really? I have news too!" Chichi playfully mimicked her excitement but it didn't seem like Bulma noticed.

"Oh! Yay! Hey, so, I ordered out Chinese earlier and I put the leftovers in the fridge. I bet you're hungry..." Bulma said to Chichi, whose eyes widened considerably.

"I'm famished."

Chichi tailed Bulma to the kitchen, which was kept meticulously clean as always. Bulma was pretty messy by herself, but anyone could be considered messy in comparison to Chichi, which just made her feel worse about tossing her clothes all over the place. All in all, Chichi didn't seem to mind, and in fact actually seemed to enjoy cleaning up after her tenant. Bulma grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and settled down into a chair at the kitchen table, watching her dark-haired friend heat up the take-out.

By the time the food was out of the microwave and on the table, Bulma was practically squirming in her seat with excitement and anticipation. "Okay, what is it? What news do you have?"

Bulma paused for dramatic effect, but Chichi knew that she couldn't be more eager to tell her the news and urged her to continue by playfully hitting her on the shoulder. Bulma began by telling her of visiting the apartment sites and how crappy most of them were, and then told her with contagious enthusiasm that she had found a gem among them that was exactly what she wanted.

"So the agent told me he'd call me in a couple days, and then I can get out of your hair." Bulma beamed but Chichi shook her head wildly.

"Oh, you're not bothering me at all! I get lonely just going to work and coming home to nothing. You're like my housewife...but a crappy one. You don't cook or clean or anything."

Bulma cracked up and corrected her. "If anything, you're the housewife! All you do is clean up after me!" They both laughed and talked more about Bulma's apartment and what exactly it looked like. Mid-conversation, Bulma remembered that Chichi had mentioned that she had news also.

"-Oh yeah, what was your news, Chichi? You said you had something to tell me." Bulma prodded.

Chichi lit up for a moment and then her face immediately fell and she sighed and scratched her head. "Well, it's good news, but..." Bulma gave her a look. "I got you an interview at Seiya Corp!"

Bulma was stunned. She could almost feel her spirit flowing out of her body and watching herself open and close her mouth like a goldfish. The familiar wave of guilt crashed on top of her and her chest began to feel heavy. She hadn't asked Chichi for help at all, she had even taken lengths to avoid even talking about her finding a job! The last thing she wanted was for someone to feel obligated to assist her out of pity. Rather than taking it in good will like she was sure Chichi had meant it, Bulma was having to fight off feelings of betrayal, as if Chichi had helped her because she thought she couldn't find a job by herself. Her resolve felt like it had been punctured and it deflated, making her shoulders and heart sag along with it.

"Wow, Chichi... you didn't have to...do that..." Bulma was unsure of what to say and stumbled over her words. Chichi let out a sigh, having known that she would react this way. She scooted closer to Bulma and put her hand on her shoulder. Chichi was beginning to feel frustrated that her friend had such a stubborn mindset and such unfathomable pride, because it was what was going to hold her back if she wanted to get anywhere in the real world. It was pride that had pushed her to move out and try to live on her own, but it hindered her because she often thought she was too good for things. Most of all, Chichi wanted to grab Bulma's shoulders and shake her until she got back to her normal self, but she knew that her lifelong companion was probably changed for good, all because she couldn't back down.

Chichi pushed a lock of hair behind Bulma's ear and said softly, "Come on, Bulma. I know you needed help, and you had been beating around the bush when it came to getting another job. What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't help you?" Bulma looked away from her and sniffed. "Don't be like that. You could have found a job on your own, hell, you're probably too qualified for this job. But you were putting it off and putting it off, and if you don't want the job, you don't even have to make an interview."

Bulma was easily sated by Chichi's reasoning and nodded numbly, still feeling pangs of anger, but relief at the same time.

"Thanks, Chichi." She smiled halfheartedly. "But what kind of work do you do anyway? You don't talk about it much." Chichi thought for a moment, surprised that she couldn't recall one time that she had talked in-depth about work with her best friend.

Chichi was surprised. "Really? I guess I don't. It's kind of hard to explain..."

"It's not illegal, is it?" Bulma asked jokingly. Chichi chuckled.

"Well, no..." '_Not to my knowledge, anyway,'_ she thought.

"Haha, okay. I never thought to ask you about it because I figured that since you didn't talk about it it must be stressful." Bulma mused. Chichi tilted her head side to side and made a "so-so" gesture.

"It's not really hard, per say, but I've recently been put in charge of going through all of the reports because I'm good at proofreading." She explained. Bulma didn't find that hard to imagine, as Chichi was quite the perfectionist.

"What are the reports for?" Bulma propped her head up with her hands.

"They're reports that relay information about the whereabouts of the top guys at our company. They can be about anything from scandals to where they're residing at the moment, so we basically just check on them."

"What? What for?" Bulma asked.

"Basically, my department manages the affairs of the higher-ups in the company. We type up reports, and sometimes we even have to clean up their mess, but if it gets too involved we can transfer over to the law department. We also manage their finances and suggest investments and things like that, and we also deal with investing money for the company itself." Chichi explained. Bulma still looked confused.

"I didn't even know there was a job to clean up after the big guys like that..."

"We have an entire department dedicated to it. We're their janitors." Chichi said distastefully. Since all of the reports had to filter through her first, per Vegeta's irritating orders, she got to know more about the company than she had ever known before, so much that her explanation of the basic workings of her department seemed trite and banal when they were quite the opposite; aside from the never-ending stream of reports that headed her way.

"Aw, it doesn't sound like a fun job at all." Bulma leaned back in her chair, dejected.

"Not all jobs are fun, Bulma." She answered in a maternal tone. "Aside from all of that busywork, it pays pretty well and you get some good benefits from working there. My coworkers are pretty nice and I've made some friends working there. Well, except for..." Bulma saw a look of annoyance cross over Chichi's features that she had seen a few times before when Chichi talked about work, but she never pressed her to talk about exactly what was causing it.

Bulma took a sip of her water and raised an eyebrow. "Who's that? An annoying coworker?"

Chichi pushed the remains of her food around on her plate. "You could say that. He's my boss." She said curtly, violently stabbing a piece of hunan chicken with her fork and eating it.

"Ew. Is he a pervert or something?"

"No, not really. He's just a douchebag." Chichi rolled her eyes. Bulma stifled a laugh; for some reason, seeing Chichi get mad was always entertaining to her because they often shared the same sentiments when it came to what they thought about other people.

"Oh, is he?" Bulma egged her on.

"Oh my God, yes! He's such a little shit. He's super arrogant and particularly notorious in the office for his constant sour mood and his insanely short temper. He's a perfectionist and he doesn't tolerate mistakes, and will chew you out if you so much as look at him wrong. He's also, apparently, very intimidating because half of the office is scared to death of him and will do anything he says without a word," Chichi paused and shook her head with contempt. "But he doesn't scare me at all."

"Pssh. Geez, what an asshole. Why does he still work there, then, if he's such a royal pain in the ass?" Bulma crossed her arms.

Chichi's mood shifted completely, and Bulma was sad to see her forked tongue go. "Aside from him being such a jerk, he's actually very good at what he does. He's also related to one of the top guys at the company, I've heard, so no wonder he keeps his job." Chichi shrugged and took her plate to the sink. This piqued Bulma's interest greatly.

"Really? Why isn't he further up, then, rather than being the head of the department that just cleans up the top guys' mess?" She interjected with a suspicious tone.

Chichi was lost deep in thought from Bulma's question. She had asked herself that many times before. Why, indeed? He was over qualified for the job and had a lot of potential to move up in the company, but other less-qualified coworkers in the department had moved up while he stayed put. Was that why he was so pissed all of the time? She decided to dismiss it for the moment but knew that the enigma would continue to prod her every idle moment she had.

She shook her head incredulously. She turned off the water and dried her hands. "Who knows? They probably couldn't tolerate his shitty attitude and he got demoted or something." Chichi speculated with a giggle.

"Maybe." Bulma shrugged, losing interest. "Doesn't matter, I'll have to meet him anyway."

"Yeah." Chichi nodded. "Oh yeah, I tried to call you today but it went straight to voicemail. That happened a couple of days ago, too." Bulma laid her head down on the table in frustration and ran her fingers through her aqua colored locks while making an irritated noise.

"I've been getting calls from people I'd rather not talk to." She grumbled. "They've been making their numbers untraceable so I'll pick up, thinking it's a leasing agent, but instead it's the same old asshole who won't leave me the hell alone, so I turned it off. I don't even want to turn it back on to see how many voice mails I probably have now."

Chichi nodded. "Okay. I was just worried. You'll have to turn it back on sometime, though."

Bulma made a non-committal noise and got up from the table. "I'm going to go to bed. Properly, I mean, in the extra room, not on the couch." Bulma deliberated drowsily.

"Okay. Nite!" Chichi said, not looking up from the kitchen counter, which she was now wiping clean, even though neither of them had used it.

Bulma made her way to the small guest bedroom by the den and changed into a large, comfy nightshirt. She fell onto the bed and let her thoughts swirl around inside her head. The past week and a half had been the hardest in her life, but she fell asleep hoping that once she had a job, the stress would lift and she could settle in and get used to her new life.

When it came to her interview, Bulma knew that she would nail it. She would charm the socks off the bastard and he wouldn't even know what hit him.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Thanks for waiting. Give me some feedback if you want! Any is greatly appreciated.

Thanks for reading.


	3. A Friendly Visit

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. Darn.

A/N: Hello again! I've been typing up a bunch of chapters lately, this is starting to be a fun summer project that I wish I would have started earlier! Sorry for all of the weird updates, I tend to revise previous chapters when idle.

11/26/11 Edited for corniness and continuity. I thought this confrontation should be more believable and have less over-the-top stuff, and overall, this is one of my problem chapters that has needed fixing. I feel like there were probably people who stopped reading right here because it was too OOC and stupid, so I decided that needed some fixing.

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Too Close For Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Two : A Friendly Visit**

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><p>Bulma grumbled to herself as she strapped herself into her convertible, wearing a pair of frayed jean shorts and a red button down bandanna blouse with her hair in freshly-curled pigtails. It was yet another day of fantastic weather, and even while taking a deep breath of cool air in an attempt to refresh her senses, she couldn't help but feel in a sour mood.<p>

Even though deep down she was looking forward to it, the circumstances made the visit much less enjoyable. She had received a call from the leasing agent just hours before, yet her exhilaration of finally getting out of Chichi's hair was short lived once she realized her mistake. Her original plan had been to return home in the middle of the night, avoiding a confrontation with her parents and anyone else she might run into, however by waiting for the call from the leasing agent she had unknowingly backed herself into a corner where she had little to no time left to sneak around since she was moving the very next day. She couldn't move alone, and she couldn't recruit any potential moving assistants from the compound in the dead of night, unless she and Chichi were to do it themselves, and that was an undesirable concept. 展ell, you're not the kind of girl who sneaks around, anyway,Chichi had said, and Bulma thought that sounded about right.

She had left Chichi's house in a huff, wearing whatever she wanted to throw on (Chichi had been puzzled by her more western-style attire but Bulma assured her that it was just for fun) and there she was, driving the familiar streets to her old home, Capsule Corp. Reasoning to herself, she figured it was more logical to get it over with in the middle of the day when everyone was hopefully occupied rather than disengaging the security system to grab her stuff with the possibility of waking everyone up.

At first she kept her composure, calmly listening to the radio, singing along with songs she knew and humming to the ones she didn't. As she neared Capsule Corp by the mile, regret after regret filled her mind to the brim, and she began wishing in that moment, more than ever, that she hadn't slacked off and had gone earlier in the dead of night. The possibility of running into him was too high during the day. Her nerves jolted as an all-too-vivid memory of the very night she left took her senses hostage as it replayed in her mind.

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><p>They both sat facing one another in her lavish dining room having a romantic dinner. A lace tablecloth scattered with feathery light rose petals graced the table, with crystal candlesticks that held bright red candles, dripping down wax and glowing with sensuous light. At one end of the table, Bulma, wearing a little black dress, was happily gazing down at her perfectly cooked steak. She had prepared this night for them, a night of romance on which they would, ideally, enjoy the company of one another and have a relaxing evening. Even more ideally, they'd eat, watch a movie, and make love all night long. She loved playing it up for Yaumcha, and even though it was nothing more than a dressed-up version of an old fashioned dinner date, he seemed to love it too.<p>

"Babe?" He said.

She looked up and smiled. He had been quiet for awhile, focusing on his meal, but she could tell by his body language that a thought had struck him, for he had set down his fork and knife and dabbed his mouth with his napkin in a polite gesture.

He cleared his throat. "So you've been doing some more work for your dad lately?"

She took another bite of her dinner and nodded. She knew he was probably working up to something as she had been assisting her father for years and it was not big news. "Yeah, but not recently. I don't want to make it a full-time thing, as I do have my own inventions and stuff that I want to get finished up also." She smiled again, but faltered when he did not smile back. "Why?"

"Well, I was wondering if you were actually _working_ or not," He said offhandedly, but Bulma was not taking it as lightly as her boyfriend apparently was. Why was he so curious all of the sudden? It wasn't uncommon for Yaumcha to ask her questions about work, but something about his tone made her anxious.

"Sometimes I am and sometimes I'm not, as usual. Why does it matter? What do you mean by 'working' anyway?"

Yaumcha shook his head. "I'm sorry, it came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that, I'm not trying to meddle. I'm just worried."

Bulma was confused. "Worried? About what?She paused for a moment but he didn't reply. 的 don't see where you're going with this. Just say it if you're going to say it, don't just mention it and then pretend like you don't want to talk about it. That's silly."

It took a minute for Yaumcha to reply, and his voice was unusually thick with tension. "I thought your dad just might need some help or something," He said, shrugging as if he wasn't as worked up as he was. Bulma raised an eyebrow. He was trying to lead her to her own conclusion, but not only was she not in the mood to follow, she also wasn't sure what he was talking about. Could he be asking about one of their inventions? She had no clue. She got the feeling he was meddling with something that wasn't any of his concern, which was the norm for Yaumcha, who could be painfully curious sometimes.

"Well, help with what?" She asked sharply, taking the bait. Yaumcha paused for a moment that was too long for Bulma, and she was growing even more irritated. She felt like the buildup was not necessary, and that if something was wrong, he should tell her._ Why is he suddenly caring so much about me having a job? Is that what this is about?_ She really had no idea.

"Um..." He paused again and averted his gaze. Bulma's penetrating sea-blue eyes were fixed directly on him, and her gaze was so intense that he instantly became a nervous wreck under her scrutiny, which was nothing new.

"Uh, well... So I was reading the newspaper, right? And, I read in the paper that Capsule Corp wasn't doing so well and I thought you would want to... Umm, help," He managed to say, visibly relieved that he finally got the sentence out in the open.

If Bulma had been confused before, now she was completely dumbfounded. She didn't pay much attention to her father's stocks aside from reading the occasional newspaper article, but as a whole, the idea that her family wasn't doing well financially had never occurred to her. Weren't they always doing well? She didn't help her father on the business end of things very much yet, she just occasionally lent her genius to her father, helping him fix things and trying to make things work. Maybe in the future when she was closer to inheriting the company she would worry about it, but it wasn't an issue she thought about much. As far as she knew, they were doing very well, as always.

Yaumcha's sudden interest in her financial affairs was even more puzzling. Why was he making such a big deal out of it? It didn't have an effect on him either way, did it?

She smiled and waved it off in an attempt to lighten the mood and change the subject, as she could feel the situation could turn bad at any moment, judging by the way Yaumcha was looking at her. "It's probably nothing, hun. If it was that bad, which I truly doubt it is, my dad would definitely ask me for help, you know he would, and you know I would do anything he needed me to, even if it didn't have to do with me working in the lab with him like I normally do. He hasn't said a word that suggested that we're, like, _going under _or anything, if you know what I mean." She joked lightly, looking back down at her plate, but she noticed Yaumcha visibly stiffen at the other end of the table.

At that moment, she tilted her head at him inquisitively. Due to the shadow the candlelight created on his face, she couldn't really see his eyes or tell what he was thinking, but the glow of the light made him appear a little scary, as if he was getting legitimately angry with her. _What is up with him?_ She tried to hide her confusion but she couldn't help but be a little suspicious.

"Yaumcha." She leaned back in her chair. "What makes you suddenly so interested in my father's business affairs?" Taking a sip of her wine, she watched Yaumcha stumble over his words for a moment as he often did when he became flustered.

"Well, I... was thinking... you know..." He quickly composed himself. "If Capsule Corp isn't doing well, maybe..." Her confusion suddenly evaporated and a look of realization passed over her features. Yaumcha immediately began stuttering again. "Just...just forget about it. Doesn't matter. Forget I said anything." He leaned back dismissively and looked away.

She pursed her lips in anger. "You're just worried about yourself, aren't you? What are you even talking about? This isn't like you. " Bulma asked quietly, her eyes smoldering like a fire about to start.

Yaumcha looked like a deer caught in the headlights, which was an obvious sign of guilt to Bulma. She sighed and shook her head.

"Why do you have to do this?" She asked, exasperated. "You always mooch off of me for stuff, and you know I don't mind, but this line of questioning is really going too far. You know we have a lot of money, babe, and the fact that you're even worried about this is really selfish. Are you expecting me to take care of you for the rest of your life?"

Yaumcha frowned and sat up straight in his seat. "I don't mooch off of you, and you know it! I thought you wanted me here! I have a job, I don't need you to support me."

Bulma had reached a new level of annoyance. _Whatever Yamcha is trying to pull tonight, I am __**so **__not in the mood. _"I do want you here, but if you're going to just worry about yourself then there's no point in you even staying here with me." She stated simply.

Yaumcha looked incredulous, and she quickly corrected herself.

"I don't mean forever. I mean, right now. Just get out, I'm pissed off." She said forcefully. "I don't want to say shit I don't mean, because you know that happens when I'm mad." She rubbed her forehead with irritation.

"Look, babe, it's not..." He stopped abruptly and stood up from his chair. "Wait, why should I leave? YOU leave." He pointed at her and she looked at him in disgust.

"Hey, don't point at me, you know I hate that! What the hell are you talking about!" She yelled, standing quickly and wincing as her chair screeched backward on the wood floor. "I told you to go, quit being a jerk. This is my house, get the fuck out!" _He thinks he can point at me and order me around? I'm so not playing that game tonight, screw that._ Yaumcha looked at her as if not registering what she had said, and she stared right back. He remained silent, and then broke into an odd smile, as if he was humoring her little tirade and not taking her seriously, at all.

"Your house? This isn't your house and you know it." He said with an odd tone that she hadn't heard before.

Bulma could not believe her ears. She put her hands on her hips. "Uh, excuse me? I live here, asshole!"

"Shut up!" He yelled, and Bulma immediately obeyed in response to the unfamiliar tone from her boyfriend, who only seemed to raise his voice when he was really serious. Was she mad enough to yell back? No, too confused... She stood still with her mouth still slightly open, listening.

He continued. "This is your parent's house. You haven't done one day of real work in your whole damn life, have you? I mean _real_ work that's not for mommy and daddy." Bulma grit her teeth hard. She silently fumed, but said nothing. She felt as if she were constantly stifling a yell, keeping it bottled up inside.

Yamcha threw his arms up as if exasperated. "I'm sick of this self-entitled bullshit! If anyone has been mooching, it's been _you_!" He slammed the table with his palm, the slam making her jump in shock. His voice escalated louder and louder. "I've been working my ass off out there in the real world and it's not a picnic, unlike what your parents might have you thinking with the way they coddle you! Have some independence! You couldn't last a minute out there providing for yourself, so excuse me if I'm worried about my girlfriend's well-being! At least I earn my keep, nowadays you don't do shit! Really, Bulma, if anyone should be getting the fuck out, it's you!"

Color rose to Bulma's cheeks. She was quite angry, but also a little embarrassed. She always left it up to her boyfriend to tell her the truth about everything, no matter what. Had he always thought that she was just a spoiled brat? What about the fact that she was a absolute genius and completely gorgeous, did that mean nothing? It's not like she was some slacker, was she? Yaumcha just having these thoughts was one thing, but to actually say them to her face, and in such a way it made her feel like _nothing_?

A moment of silence passed as Yaumcha and Bulma remained standing at opposite ends of the ornately decorated table, the setting of what was once a romantic dinner. Bulma was completely still, soaking everything in, thinking. She was amazed that his words were having such a powerful effect on her. He really meant it, he wasn't just trying to make her mad. The look in his eye, the strength in his voice, the way his fists were clenched... Every word was from his heart, and it was a very harsh awakening for Bulma, who could feel the shock to her very core. Something about what he had said struck a chord deep inside her. Every word, all of it, slowly seeped into her mind against her will. What it all meant, coming from anyone, yet, coming from the one she loved so much...

She accidentally allowed a tear to slide down her cheek before she hastily wiped it with the back of her hand, hiding her face in private shame and ran up the back stairs. She never planned to have let him have the satisfaction of knowing that he had made her cry, yet she foolishly let his words get to her.

Deep down inside, she had hoped that he would come after her, that he would hold her, and tell her that it was all right, that he didn't really mean it the way he said it, he just got out of hand and got angry, but no footsteps followed her up the stairs, except the empty echo of her own, reminding her that neither of her parents were even home to hear the venomous things her boyfriend has just said. Yet were they really poison? How much truth did his words hold? Perhaps she was letting those thoughts effect her more than necessary, but she couldn't help herself. She felt completely isolated when all she wanted was someone to hold her and assure her that she was none of the things that Yaumcha had just accused her of being. She rushed into her room and stuffed a pile of clothes into an old duffel bag along with her purse and her toothbrush.

She had to get out before she could realize how empty and baseless his words had been, and allow herself to forgive them as a result. She had seen truth in his words; it was time for her to finally go. She had never really considered it before, but now it seemed so easy. Break away from responsibility, from everything, make her own way. What he had said, even if he had just said it to hurt her feelings and maybe not even because he actually thought it, hit her hard.

She shook her head in disbelief and hurt, another wave of tears full of emotion overpowering her will. Who was she to defend him, if he couldn't even follow her to defend himself? She could feel how much he meant it when she was looking into his eyes as he spoke.

Exiting the room, she took one last look, but right as she was beginning to be convinced to stay just by looking back at her room in sorrow, she turned away and headed to her parent's room. She wrote a short note to her mother and father and left it on their bed in case they would be wondering where she was when they arrived back from their vacation, but she knew they might not even realize she was gone. For now, they would remain blissfully unaware, far away on yet another vacation, not even knowing for possibly days after they came home. That was okay with her.

She rushed down the back stairs, avoiding glancing in the dining room just in case Yamcha was sitting in there waiting for her, and into the garage, throwing her bag in the trunk and buckling herself into her car. As she drove to nowhere, her steering wheel became wet and slippery from wiping the tears off of her face. As much as she wanted them to stop, she couldn't. She cried for herself, cried because she couldn't stop crying, and wallowed in the self-pity that she loathed so much to feel. After an hour of driving around aimlessly and calming down, she gathered her senses and chose her destination.

She went to the only place she could go, because she didn't just need a warm bed and a working television, she needed comfort. When she arrived, even though she worked hard to suppress them, the tears poured out again, and Chichi held her as she bawled like a baby, petting her hair and whispering softly.

"You don't have to prove anything, you don't. It's okay. It's all right..." Chichi had whispered into her ear, and regardless of her words being true or not, Bulma was comforted by her presence. Relieved, she allowed herself to feel liberated, to allow emotions bloom inside her that didn't feel the same as when she had felt them before while packing her things in her room... Freedom, responsibility, and fear.

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><p>Bulma didn't see anyone outside Capsule Corp and deemed it safe enough to venture inside. Hesitantly pulling the key out of the ignition, she stepped out of the car, feeling comforted by the familiar crackle of the gravel in the driveway underneath her cowgirl boots. Judging by the time of day, she thought she would be the least likely to run into anyone if she went in through the side porch door, so she headed around the large house.<p>

Looking around at the newly tended garden and smelling the freshly cut grass made her appreciate what she had always taken for granted before, the beauty of her own home. She spotted the far-away buildings on the compound that she knew her father must be working inside at that very moment, and missed him more than ever now that she knew he was so close.

Bulma crept through the grass and finally reached the side door, and she unlocked it quickly. Pulling it open, she almost fell over in shock.

"What!" Was all she managed to say before she was suddenly smothered by someone, but as Bulma had been caught totally by surprise, she had no idea who it was until she heard the voice.

"Oh, Bulma dear! I missed you so much!" Her mother squealed, squeezing her so tightly that it was difficult to breathe. Bulma could tell that her mother had missed her very dearly, for usually the intensity of her hugs were directly proportional to how happy she was to see her. Bulma squeezed her mother back with matching enthusiasm. She had been separated from her parents for longer periods of time, but this had felt like so much longer.

"I missed you too, Mom." She said weakly, her tone of voice diminished and cracking due to the fact that her rib cage was being crushed. Her mother released her and quickly rushed her inside. Since her mother had come out of practically nowhere and she hadn't expected for anyone to be in that part of the house, she was feeling particularly wary of her surroundings. Who else was hiding around, waiting to pop out? Likely no one, but she felt a little on edge not knowing the current situation of her own home. Or what used to be her home, she supposed.

"Is he here?" She asked, cutting into her mother's chatter that she wasn't paying any particular attention to.

"Who? Yaumcha? Oh, no. He hasn't been here for a week, or so." Her mother said, sugary sweet. "I didn't know you'd be coming back home today, otherwise I would have made you some cookies!"

Bulma shook her head as her mother led the way to the kitchen, her blond hair bouncing with her step. They chatted about things going on at home and Capsule Corp, but her mother had avoided asking her about leaving until the current subject grew bland, which happened quickly as not much had changed in the two weeks of Bulma's absence.

"So you've been staying at Chichi's? Having fun?" Her mother asked with more enthusiasm than necessary for the topic, as if it were just one big slumber party holding up Bulma at her friend's house. Bulma watched as her mother stirred her tea with a practiced hand and thought about what to say.

To her surprise, Yaumcha hadn't talked to her parents at all about their argument and had managed to keep his mouth shut for once. Well, rather than not talk about it at all, he had lied about the situation, or pretended it had never happened. Two days after she had left he had called her and tried to apologize, and at first she was eager to hear his defense, but when it didn't satisfy her she wasted no time in hanging up on him. After that call, she ignored his calls and eventually all calls as a result. He seemed confident that it wasn't over and that they would eventually get back together, otherwise he wouldn't still be living in her house. Or, wait, her parent's house... Damn it, she just couldn't get used to that.

She sighed softly. She didn't even want to start thinking about what to say about Yaumcha quite yet.

Bulma felt a familiar pang of regret strike her as she remembered what exactly she had told her parents she was doing. As the note she had written for her parents the night she left did not satisfy her conscience, she had called them the next day telling them that she felt like staying at Chichi's for awhile. They asked no questions, and Bulma was once again relieved that her parents saw her as her own person, free to make her own decisions, but she knew that while they respected her choices, they wouldn't take the whole 'moving out' thing too lightly. Everything she had told them was completely true, but there was no question that she had omitted several necessary facts.

She had felt that it would be best to tell them exactly what she was doing once she was more settled in, if the circumstances stayed favorable. She had everything planned out now and she hoped that everything would work, but if it didn't, she would make it work, no matter what! Bulma was definitely looking forward to the interview coming up, as a new job, a _real _job, was her first step to true independence.

"Yeah, fun." She smiled serenely at her mother and nodded, smiling to herself and sipping her tea. "Lots of fun..."

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><p>AN: Did you like it? Let me know! Please review!

Thanks for reading.


	4. Dangerous

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z isn't mine. It truly hurts me to admit the truth, but it actually isn't... I thought I had you fooled!

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for all of the reviews, from VenusLegacy, lafemmevegita, and keleos! It means a lot to me that people are taking time to read this fic and think that it's interesting enough for me to continue it, which I definitely will!

Enjoy!

11/27/11 Revised for continuity and story-flow.

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><p><strong>Too Close for Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Three : Dangerous**

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><p>Vegeta awoke suddenly for the second time that morning as his backup alarm clock sounded with an annoying trill that invaded his dozing senses. Once again, he slammed an open palm onto the snooze button, not bothering to raise his head to look at the time.<p>

"I'm awake. I'll get up. Right...now..." With a grunt and, surprisingly, more effort than he usually required, he lifted himself up onto his hands, his arms shaking under the weight, but then quickly dropped himself back down, his face landing back on his warm pillow. "No, thirty more seconds," He mumbled to himself drowsily, his voice dwindling as his unconscious sought sleep once more, and sadly, yet again, he could not reach it despite his best efforts.

Ten seconds passed, and a loud bang startled him wide awake. Fully up now and alarmed, he sat up on his bed, frantically darting his eyes around the room for the source of the sudden noise. There was another sharp thud against the wall next to his bed, and he examined it with confusion. It happened again, and again, and slowly became a series of evenly timed thuds, and Vegeta rationalized to himself aloud, attributing the sound to a hammer, and nothing more. He allowed himself to relax, and he rubbed the side of his face with his palm, which he noticed itched terribly, for some reason.

"Fucking..." He cursed. _Just what time do they think it is, hammering shit like that? _He blinked slowly and took a look at the clock radio he had struck just moments before. The numbers burned red into his retinas to the point where he could see them clearly etched into the darkness of his eyelids, which he closed in frustration. Three o'clock PM, Sunday. Deciding that there was no way he was going to get any sleep no matter how long he stayed in bed, he grumbled and maneuvered himself out of the sheets, tangled from his fitful rest. Cracking his neck, he got up and walked stiff-legged and sore to the bathroom, feeling as if he had just been struck by an 18-wheeler.

He flicked on the light and reluctantly looked in the mirror with an odd sense of dread. When he finally brought his eyes up to face his reflection, what he saw led him to glance quickly down at the palm that he had just wiped his face with. It had a streak of rust colored red junk across it and he closed his eyes briefly in frustration yet again, balling his hands into tight fists.

_Damn, would you look at that..._ Strands of hair were swept down in front of his face, and his usually lively-looking spiked hair was looking a bit disheveled. Dark circles hung underneath his bloodshot eyes. He would have chuckled to himself if it weren't for his exhaustion. His body definitely didn't betray how tired he truly felt, and he was glad again that it was Sunday. He leaned forward, closer to the mirror, and examined the small wound on the side of his face. It was a small cut on his upper cheek, underneath his right eye, about four inches long. It wasn't too deep, but what had healed during his short rest had broken open from his fitful sleep and was now glistening with a bright crimson, the side of his face smeared with the ruddy remnants of the makeshift clean-up he somehow managed in the early hours of that morning in haste to get to bed.

_Rough night again_...

He wiped his face with a wet washcloth, shaking his head in disbelief. Opening the medicine cabinet, he rustled around blindly for a moment, but then took out an old bottle of Vicodin he had left over from his last trip to the hospital. He popped a small dose in his mouth and swallowed it dry. Vegeta took a step backward to exit the small room but a sudden rush of dizziness and unease overtook him and he lost his balance. He stumbled to the ground, landing uncomfortably on his ass on the rock-hard tile, even though he had stuck out his hands to catch the fall at the last moment. He allowed himself a grimace but swallowed the grunt of pain that shot through his lower body.

A minute passed but no attempt was made to right himself. The dark-haired man just leaned his head back against the bathroom wall, and closed his eyes, not knowing exactly what to think. Not a thought came to his mind. All that came up were emotions, the bottled up feelings that he struggled to suppress; pain, nausea, and fury. He nursed a headache with a hand at his temple, gently massaging it before dropping it listlessly. He could have only dreamed of how much the night before had taken a toll on his body. Vegeta blamed himself, for all of the discomfort he felt at that moment he had brought upon himself out of his own ignorance and carelessness. The vulnerability he felt was enough to increase the ever-mounting nausea that burned in his throat.

_Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot..._

As sleep, the cruel mistress that he had yearned for so desperately while lying in bed, finally overtook him mercifully, a final thought rang out in his mind that reflected the very truths that plagued him so. It haunted him to the point that it was his driving force, his motivation for every action he now committed to protect his own life. A life that _they_ had claimed was so precious, once, a long time ago.

_It will be over soon... _

_She promised me..._

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><p>Chichi steered her car into the parking lot of the apartment complex Bulma had specified. She giggled at the accuracy of the written directions, a sloppily drawn note with a big hill and a tiny little building with arrows that pointed to it saying, 'HERE! Don't pass me, I'm hiding!' Chichi shook her head remembering Bulma's earlier display of enthusiasm as she packed up her things into her duffel bag, gushing that she would arrange the furniture so nicely that the apartment would look just like her old room.<p>

Chichi still remained a little puzzled as to how she had gotten all of the furniture out of her room and into her new place without her parents noticing anything, as they were bound to if she planned on hauling out all of her belongings by the truckload, but she figured that Bulma had devised a foolproof plan to execute the task discreetly. She turned off her car lights and enveloped herself almost completely in darkness, save for the weak lights outside of the complex. It was a cool, Sunday night, and Chichi had rolled down her windows to let the breeze in while she drove, but she quickly rolled them up once she realized how dark it was once her lights were turned off.

She opened the door to let herself out and pushed it shut with her foot. She approached the stoop and pressed her friend's room number, 1009, and heard the resulting buzz. Chichi was practically brimming with excitement and anticipation as Bulma buzzed her in, but then she became a little irritated with her friend for not checking whether or not it was indeed her by utilizing the intercom. She realized that her friend might not have thought about how dangerous forgetting to do these things might be, however silly she might perceive them to be, and Chichi firmly decided that she would have to talk to her about it, among other safety precautions, the moment she got upstairs.

The temperature of the building was like a freezer, almost, and Chichi shivered due to the unexpected change. The lobby looked particularly unkempt, with a dead plant in the corner. She pushed the 'UP' button for the elevator, but the button did not light up. The uncooperative device only fueled her irritation, and she sighed, pressing it harder. After a couple more tries, the arrow illuminated. She crossed her arms and stood with one foot out.

_'Of course Bulma wont be able to afford the best place if she's wanting to get by with her own money, it's all right.'_ She rationalized softly in a futile attempt to compose herself. '_The place won't be a dump, she'll clean it up, otherwise she wouldn't even bother considering it._' She took a deep breath and waited. And waited.

The lift arrived and she stepped into it with some impatience. In her opinion, the thing was now untrustworthy, as it was either as old as the building appeared to be or slow as hell. The buttons inside were even more messed up than the up/down buttons, and it seemed like it the task to get it moving would take her longer than it had to coax it down. She pressed the 0button repeatedly, pushing harder and harder than the attempt before, but to no avail. She stopped in frustration and let the doors slide shut, as she stood in the lift unmoving, remaining on the first floor. Suddenly, the familiar sound of her jingly ringtone filled the air and she answered it, completely abandoning her efforts to work the stubborn elevator.

"Hello?"

"Chichi." A rough voice stated, sounding even more menacing than real life through the ear-piece of her cellphone. The familiar displeased tone was what struck her recognition, as the number had looked foreign and unfamiliar flashing on the screen moments before. Her curiosity faded and her irritation returned with overwhelming force as she adopted a mocking tone of voice.

"Why hello, Vegeta, how may I help you this fine evening?" Chichi chirped, a false smile adorning her features.

"I'm changing it to Tuesday," He remarked gruffly with a firm tone of finality. Color rose to Chichi's face as her anger increased dangerously.

"Oh no you don't! You will not put this off another _second_, do you-"

A small beep signified that the call had been disconnected.

A moment of complete silence enveloped the small elevator as Chichi's mouth hung open in disbelief. She bent her head down in effort to suppress her yell of outrage, but she unleashed it with little resistance.

"ARRRGH!" Chichi screeched aloud to the cramped and empty elevator. That bastard had hung up on her! Mid-sentence! She berated him loudly as if he were still on the phone that remained open and silent in her hand, the line dead.

"You are such a fucking asshole! How _dare_ you hang up on me! Arrogant little son of a bitch!" She gripped the railing that lined the inside of the lift to steady herself from her outburst. All of the insults and quips and retorts that she had bitten back or suppressed had come out through those words. She suddenly regretted how she had spoken to him for those few seconds he was on the line, and how it had gone against most of the rules she had set up for herself for her plan.

_What if you had really said that to his face? How many days of hard work would I have undone? _Chichi straightened herself up and dusted off her customary jeans that she wore religiously on her off days. She put her head in her hands for a moment, then pushed them upward and through her hair, inhaling deeply in a crude attempt to mask her indignation. While that had been certainly no good way to talk to him, whether he was listening or not, damn, it felt good.

Chichi had calmed down immensely from her short tirade, and with a clear head once again mulled over a predicament that she had faced for a long while. Although he was not much of a conversationalist, as was apparent through her years of working with him, her exchanges with Vegeta were some of the most important things she had to monitor in order to piece things together once and for all. She sat down in the elevator and sighed, hoping she wouldn't be disturbed during her contemplations. She certainly would have her overbearing boss all figured out soon enough, but what remained of her intricate puzzle never ceased to confuse her, and push her to her limits. She had to think of all of the possibilities, but she seemed to be leaving something out.

To tell the truth, when explaining to Bulma about her job, she hadn't divulged all of Seiya Corp's workings to her; in fact, she had left many things out that she assumed her friend would figure out for herself in time. She had purposefully avoided talking about her job around her friends and family as much as possible as to not give herself away, but she knew now was the time to incorporate her friend's genius into her plans, especially now that she was desperately in need and it would be convenient for the both of them. If Bulma was the girl Chichi knew her to be, which she surely was, her curiosity would lead her along the same path Chichi had walked on for years.

She hadn't always been like this. From the first months of working at Seiya Corp, Chichi knew that there was something not quite right about the company, that there was something she wasn't being told. She quickly moved to action, seeking out what exactly was being hidden from her sight, but at the time, she had little to go on to suspect her employers of treachery, and could do little to investigate her hunch. Back when she had first started working, Vegeta hadn't yet been her supervisor, and wasn't affiliated with the department in any way, to her knowledge. He almost appeared out of thin air.

However, a man named Radditz was supervisor of the department when she had first begun work there, and he had been in the position for quite some time. Radditz had been very kind, and even though he didn't seem very professional to her at the time, she learned that he was a very productive man and a force to be reckoned with concerning the treatment of business affairs. He had a strong sense of luck and intuition, and if he invested in a company that seemed like the underdog just on a feeling, it almost always would skyrocket. She had gotten to know him very well, but therein lied the first hitch in her dream job; she doubted the sincerity of the company itself.

Chichi, when she was first hired for the job, had originally thought that it was a company that managed banking affairs, but hardly anything she had done at work had much to do with money or finances at all, to her surprise. Instead, she was wading through those seemingly meaningless reports and files, and Radditz managed the accounts himself. She thought it very strange that she wasn't placed in that sector of the department, and found it a waste to hire business majors to work for a company that supposedly managed financial-related things, and not have them deal with the accounts at all.

Secondly, she couldn't understand the importance of tracking the whereabouts and actions of the top guys of the company, if they carried enough trust to be as high up in the rankings as they were in the first place. After that, Chichi began to view almost everything as busy work and unimportant, and while she had tried convincing some of her coworkers that there was something fishy going on, they ignored her suspicions and carried on.

She found it unbelievable that none of her coworkers, to her knowledge, had caught on to the suspicious activity around the company or at least asked what they were really doing, but at the same time she wasn't surprised that people didn't complain. After all, they got a paycheck every month, and they were paid well for the bordering-on menial work they put up with every day.

This continued for a year and a half, until Radditz was replaced, and she hadn't seen Radditz since the very last day that he went to work. He hadn't told her or anyone working in the department that he would be leaving, it was sprung upon them with no prior notice, and she now had reason to believe that it was a surprise to Radditz as well, but she had no proof. Vegeta seemed to have come out of nowhere, as she had never seen him before and had little knowledge of him working at the office before, but she didn't have the employment records, so she couldn't be too sure.

He was very strange in comparison to Radditz. For one thing, he held a widespread influence over the lower branches of the company from the very beginning, even though she hadn't seen before in her life, and his power had even percolated through to some other higher-ranking departments. Another thing was that he maintained an almost paranoid secrecy regarding his work and filled in no one on his doings, which she came to realize was the reason why the assistants seemed to be going in and out through a revolving door. His behavior was so intriguing that she had consistently investigated him since the day he arrived, and had hoped to get on his good side so she could perhaps squeeze some information out of him regarding the true nature of Seiya Corp, but the man was a stone wall to her, and still revealed nothing after a year and a half. Chichi convinced herself that she was not to blame for that, because she had tried hard enough and obviously the man had cut himself off from connections to others completely.

She was filled with dislike for the man, and just thinking about the baseless insults and arrogant belittlement he subjected her and the other employees to constantly only made her anticipate the revenge that she would one day, surely, bring upon him. Chichi wasn't giving up, though, she still sought to discover the twisted underbelly of the company, and she was on the cusp of a great discovery, she could feel it.

The elevators door pulled open and Chichi gasped in surprise as an old woman crept in, not giving Chichi a second glance as she scrambled up from the ground. She brushed herself off in embarrassment, but the old woman still seemed to not have seen her do so or even care.

"What floor?" The old woman asked shakily.

"Huh? Oh... Ten." She answered, watching curiously as the old woman rammed the button in with her cane, the button blinking in response and becoming unstuck. Chichi sighed in relief, she would see Bulma soon, who was probably getting worried, now that she had been sitting in the elevator for twenty minutes thinking to herself. She looked forward to seeing the apartment, but hoped she would escape the elevator unscathed, as the old woman was now looking at her with a manic gaze.

* * *

><p>Bulma grunted loudly as she lifted up the mattress and flipped it over onto the bed frame with a thud. She readjusted it, and then stood back, admiring her work as she wiped the perspiration off her forehead. Having borrowed a Capsule Corp truck used for transporting supplies, she had brought over all of her furniture and moved everything all by herself. Well, everything once it was inside her apartment, of course. She left the dirty work to some of her father's employees, some poor interns that she had so expertly wheedled into assisting her. While she did somewhat enjoy their torture, she paid them graciously and was very happy to finally get to work on arranging the furniture, which was a pastime that she frequently employed back in her own room at home.<p>

That was six hours ago, and now all she had to do was make her bed and she was finished. Completely done, aside from unpacking her clothes, which she would attend to soon enough. Her satisfaction emanated out of her in waves, and to her, every room seemed to brighten once she walked into it. While she was disappointed that she didn't have enough furniture to fill up the whole apartment (she had just brought the furniture from her _bed_room, not her media room, her study, her office, or her sitting room, after all), she reassured herself that she would soon be able to afford more, and decorate it as much as she wanted to in time.

It hadn't been difficult to satisfy her mother's ever-present curiosity when she had the interns loading up the truck with her furniture. She had simply explained that Chichi was giving away her old furniture and she thought she should as well, but as a result of her lie, she could not bring all of it with her because it would definitely arouse suspicion. It was almost a useless gesture, as her parents seldom entered her room anyway and would probably never notice the absence of all her furniture, but she felt as if she should take precautions regardless. On her way out, she managed to bring along a few things she forgot to pack in the first place, including some small pictures and things that she had missed looking at. She ended up taking a small bulletin board with her because she liked every single one of the pictures on it as she looked good in every single one: pictures of her and Chichi, with Yaumcha, and with her family. Sometimes, everyone was scrunched into one picture, doing typical peace signs and rabbit ears on one another.

Bulma pushed her silky hair behind her ears and looked up at the board that she had put up earlier that day on the wall above her bed. Her eyes honed in on an intimate picture of herself and Yaumcha, getting their picture taken by Chichi at Capsule Corp's annual New Years Eve party. Their arms were wrapped around one another, and he was kissing her cheek while fireworks exploded colorfully on the dark, endless canvas behind them, speckled with light. Her cheeks were flushed in the picture, as she had not expected for Yaumcha to kiss her so suddenly and she was embarrassed that Chichi's quick hand was going to take a picture of it, but after the photos had been developed she had been glad that she had such a sweet picture of her and her boyfriend.

Now she wasn't so sure if she wanted the picture anymore at all. She felt a sudden urge to yank it off the bulletin board and tear it up into pieces but her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. She leapt and giggled with glee, heading toward the door and knowing exactly who it was. She turned the handle and pulled at the door, but it wouldn't budge. She pulled again, a bit harder, but to no avail.

"Chichi? This door is kinda tricky, sorry, hold on a second..." She yelled through the door. Bulma yanked on it desperately and mumbled to herself choice words in frustration. 'The agent said he would fix it, but he didn't say when, that slimy bastard!'

"Bulma? Should I push on it?" Chichi said through the door anxiously. She had managed to find the apartment all right, once escaping the crazy old woman on the lift.

"Uh...yeah! Turn the knob and ram your shoulder into it, that should do. " That's what the agent had done. "Just let me know on three, I don't want to get hit in the face!" Her comment was greeted by a laugh heard through the slab of wood.

"I should do it early just to spite you..." Chichi giggled. She turned the handle and readied her shoulder. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Ready?"

"You wouldn't dare! I'd get a frying pan and hit you in the head with it if you tried that. Yeah, I'm ready. Okay. One... Two... Three!"

Chichi pushed the door hard with her shoulder and stumbled in the apartment, the tiles slippery from Bulma's fresh mopping. Chichi flailed her arms, almost falling over, but her friend steadied her. As Bulma caught her and helped her regained her footing, they both looked at each other, then at the door, and burst out laughing.

"I guess that will be the routine from now on, huh?" Chichi said.

"Oh, shut up." Bulma retorted, looking back at the door with a concerned look. "I have to call Mark, the agent guy. That could be dangerous, you almost fell over!" She thought for a moment. "Or I could just fix it myself when I have time." Chichi nodded, giving her an encouraging look.

"I think it's kind of a cute quirk." Chichi said thoughtfully. Bulma shook her head at her friend's infallible effort to look on the bright side of things. Sure, it would just be an adorable quirk until she got smacked in the face by the thing. She could see it happening already, and she took a mental note to fix it as soon as possible.

"Oh, I'll show you around!" Bulma squealed enthusiastically, almost forgetting about the newly furnished apartment behind her because of her worries about the door getting fixed. Chichi slipped her shoes off and followed her, commenting along the way.

The entrance was a short hallway with a patch of hardwood floor by the door for people to take off their shoes at. In the hallway there was a coat closet, which remained empty for the moment as Bulma hadn't gotten around to unpacking her massive amount of clothes yet. Continuing up the hallway, on the left was a small kitchenette, furnished with a makeshift folding table and chairs that Bulma assured her friend she would replace as soon as humanly possible. On the right was a medium sized den, which had ivory-colored leather couches and chairs, along with a door in the back corner to a small half-bathroom. The couches and chairs themselves were pointed towards an empty wall, and Chichi assumed that Bulma intended to put a TV there sometime, probably as soon as possible, knowing Bulma's love for television. The door at the very end of the hallway opened up to be Bulma's room, complete with king-sized bed and a laptop-adorned desk, and another door at the far end of the room she assumed led to the second bathroom.

"Wow, you even took the pictures you had on the walls with you! How did you manage that?" Chichi asked, impressed at her friend's sneaky maneuvers to take most of her belongings with her without arousing suspicion. Bulma smiled knowingly, and the two of them turned back to the den.

"There are so many things you could do with this." Chichi thought aloud. "It's a little plain right now, but add a few pillows, rugs, and pictures, and a TV too, and it'll be spectacular!" She beamed at Bulma, who nodded in agreement, but with a tinge of sadness. Chichi felt bad the moment her friend let her disappointment slip up.

"Aw, Bulma..." Chichi said quietly in a concerned voice. "Do you want me to lend you some of my stuff? I know it seems kind of empty in here, but you can call me if you get lonely."

Bulma had been expecting Chichi's kind offer to lend her some things, but she was all too prepared for it, and quickly declined. "No thanks. I owe you enough." Chichi waved her hand modestly. "I'm glad you like it, though."

"Oh, I really do! It's surprisingly big, actually... Judging from the building itself you'd think that they'd only have studio apartments or something." Chichi said with distaste, but with no intent to offend. Bulma nodded strongly, and told her she had felt the exact same thing.

"Oh yeah, there's a balcony, too." Bulma added on. Chichi perked up immediately.

"Really? Where's it hiding?"

Bulma smiled and pointed towards the back of the den next to the bathroom door. "See those shades? Once you pull those back there's a sliding door." Bulma led her excited friend through the room and opened the vertical blinds, sliding open the screen door and welcoming her friend outside. There were a couple of outdoor chairs but little else adorning the balcony, and Chichi could see, just over the hill, the city landscape that lay beyond.

"Wow! The view is really nice!" Chichi exclaimed in surprise. She didn't think they would be able to look over the hill, and suddenly felt sorry for those who had apartments facing this direction but on lower floors, who surely wouldn't be able to see over it. The light of the city seemed to cast a halo around it, and they both could even see the towering structures that marked Capsule Corp from there. Bulma had initially thought that it was a little too depressing to see her first home from the doorstep of her new one, but changed her view once she had looked out towards it more than once. Instead of making her homesick, she felt relieved, and maybe even comforted, by its presence, perhaps because she knew that if she needed help that it wasn't too far away. Making her way to one of the chairs, she sat and invited her friend to do the same.

"Come sit. It's nice out and you can prep me for my interview tomorrow!" Bulma smiled playfully. Chichi sat but with a pout on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just an inconvenience. On my way up when I was in the elevator, Vegeta gave me a call and told me that he was changing your interview to Tuesday. I couldn't get a word out before he hung up on me. What a dick, right?" Chichi sighed with irritation and sunk herself a bit lower in her chair.

Bulma was mildly disappointed but at the same time relieved. "That's fine, it just gives me more time to prepare." Bulma grinned. "He won't know what hit him."

Chichi gave a little smile, straightening up. "That's right!"

Bulma laughed along too, but then quickly got up. "I'm kinda thirsty. Want something?" She asked, clearing her throat. When Chichi shook her head, she opened the screen door and padded inside, getting bottled water from the fridge. "So, what do I need to know?" She inquired loudly while fiddling with the cap.

Chichi pondered that for a moment. She had expected her friend to be less broad with her questions and a bit more direct, as she tended to be. She didn't want her to know too much about the company, otherwise she would get suspicious, but hint enough to intrigue her like she had the last time she talked with her about it. It would be a difficult task, but Chichi began to forewarn Bulma against all of the traps that Vegeta would set up for her to make her sound like an idiot, but Chichi doubted Bulma would be nervous or foolhardy enough to entangle herself in one. No, it wasn't the traps she was worried about, it was simply Vegeta's presence. It would be easy for anyone to get caught up in his attempts to intimidate.

Bulma was a very dominant and bossy person, and didn't like it when things didn't go her way. Chichi knew that Bulma would most certainly be surprised at how helpless she would be in a world where she was not the boss anymore. She would find out soon enough what Vegeta was like, in the flesh, and the dangers his presence posed to Chichi, from not knowing the truth about the world that was slowly consuming her.

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed it! That was a long one...with a lot of introspection with Chichi, whew! The next one should come soon, I hope...in a week, or so. It's been taking me awhile, but I'll crank it out.

Thanks for reading.


	5. The Beginning of the End

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. BUT ONE DAY... Haha, just kidding. Not mine.

Reading the reviews really helped to get me motivated to write this chapter! This one is kind of serious, aside from the interview part, but other than that, things are getting pretty intense, phew! I'm hoping to make it as long as the last one to make up for lost time! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Sorry for the long wait, enjoy!

11/27/11 – Revised.

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><p><strong>Too Close for Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Four: The Beginning of the End**

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><p><strong>12:00 P.M , Tuesday , Seiya Corp.<strong>

Vegeta sat in his office chair idly, mildly disturbed by events that had transpired that morning, but by now it was almost out of his mind. Feeling relieved, he looked out the large paneled window that covered the wall of his office, facing the rest of the department. He was surrounded by glass, as if in in a fragile little box barely holding him in, but this had become like his second home. Before he had become department head a year and a half ago, he had looked in upon this office to see Radditz sitting in this very chair...

_Forget about it. He's gone now._

He had just finished writing the mandatory report that usually accompanied a night like the one he had on Saturday, and he was honestly glad it was over. That time had been the worst. He took an extra day to postpone the interview just in case the treatment took longer than usual, but to his surprise, it didn't take long at all. Only a bit longer than the last time.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back onto the spongy headrest of his chair that was flexible in all directions. He wasn't sure if he could keep doing it. His head was still pounding, but he had no external injuries, nor did he have any scars. It was always like this after another night like that, but he still had not adjusted to the cycle, one that was becoming much too regular for his liking.

_That machine..._

There was a sharp knock at his door and he saw Kakarott standing there. Vegeta tried his hardest to give the intruder a look that would express how much he didn't want to be bothered in that moment, but the tall bumbling man with wild black hair decided to come in anyway. Vegeta opened his mouth to tell him to kindly get the fuck out, but Kakarott was quick enough to speak before him.

"There's a Miss Bulma here to see you, Vegeta." Vegeta covered his face and pushed his hands up into his scalp before giving the messenger a fiery glare that would have alarmed anyone else, but Goku was quite tolerant towards Vegeta's abrasive behavior.

"What are you, my personal assistant?" Vegeta spat. His counterpart blinked slowly.

"No! Nancy is." He answered innocently.

"Well, no shit! Where might she have..." His expression changed from a scowl to one of deep thought.

_Where, indeed..._

"Nevermind." Vegeta said, waving his hand as if to clear the thought away. "Send her in."

"Who? Nancy?"

"No, idiot!" Vegeta stood, a livid look in his eye, watching Kakarott quickly scamper off laughing through the door. _You'd better run, fool._ He sat back down and turned to look out of his other glass window, this time the one facing outside, and was greeted by the familiar view of the city. He checked his e-mail and wondered to himself what kind of woman Chichi had sent to him. If she was as brilliant as her resume suggested, he might very well consider hiring her.

...But he guessed she would be ugly.

Vegeta had a little theory. Not one that he took very seriously, it was mostly his own sick joke that he used to amuse himself sometimes. Women had points that were divided up into all of their areas of possible attractiveness, and the more a woman had in one area, the less there would be left to put in the other categories. He figured most women of high intelligence were not much to look at because all of their points would be used up. This also applied to a woman's physical proportions. Large breasts? Small butt. Small breasts? Big butt. Large breasts, _and_ big butt? Ugly, most likely, or with a possibly intolerable personality.

It was a directly proportional theory, and therefore, a completely rational one that he enjoyed bringing up in the company of Chichi, who of course thought it was completely ridiculous. He claimed it was common logic and that all men did it in their minds, and a woman who defied these rules was probably a bitch to make up for it. He would then look at her very pointedly, but she'd never catch on.

He had summed up his speculations of the moment that was to come by the time there was another knock on the door. Kakarott would always knock impossibly loud to annoy him, so he knew it wasn't him, but when he turned around, Kakarott was all Vegeta could see.

Kakarott opened the door wide, and held it open for a woman who had been standing behind him, who had been almost completely obscured by Kakarott's height. The woman stepped out from behind the him like a star making an entrance from behind a curtain. Vegeta blinked hard.

_Wait, what?_

"Hello, I'm Bulma Briefs." The woman who came out of nowhere smiled brilliantly, her cerulean eyes shining with genuine delight, or a trained imitation. She reached to shake his hand. He put his hand out by reflex alone and almost forgot to introduce himself.

"...Vegeta. Sit." He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and returned to his office chair almost in a daze, not taking in any of his surroundings with only his thoughts consuming him.

This was definitely not what he expected. A miscalculation on his part, and a dire one at that. Though he had pictured the epitome of ugliness, and any average-looking woman would have looked better than the troll in his imagination, the dainty young woman sitting before him seemed implausible.

His thoughts seemed to race, as did his heart, which made him feel completely and utterly off guard, not to mention pathetic. _Idiot. Get a grip._ He forced himself to stay pensive, which was taking much more effort than usual, to his discomfort. He was not some lecher, and he usually didn't take a second glance at most women, but not only was this woman very pretty, she looked damn familiar.

He began evaluating her quickly, but he couldn't help but think every other moment that he was taking too long just looking at her and she must be getting suspicious of his gaze, however appropriate he made it seem. Long, wavy hair cascaded down past her shoulders, and she had big, blue eyes of the same color; an unreal shade of blue. Her pale milky skin seemed to glow in the sun shining in from his window, either giving her the illusion of having a shimmering aura or making her seem as fragile as porcelain, an almost childlike paleness, but as he quickly looked down at her chest he quickly realized that she was not a child at all. Quite the opposite, she was all woman...

He drew his eyes back up to her face. That thought couldn't have possibly crossed his mind. She was really very nicely shaped, but she seemed a little too perfect looking, too polished, and perfection was immediately suspect to his scrutiny.

It was only now that he registered that they had already shaken hands with one another, but he couldn't remember any of it, only that her hand had been so small and delicate. And warm. Very warm.

He forcibly snapped himself out of thought by looking down and then relaxing back in his chair, crossing his arms. It was an effort to restore himself to the complete professionalism that had been broken by the mere gaze of a woman, a gaze he returned harshly from his side of the wide desk; a distance that had never seemed so far away, especially when he only wanted to create a barrier between himself and those he met in his office.

Vegeta cleared his throat. "Well, shall we begin?"

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier that day, 9:00 A.M<strong>

Chichi entered the office Tuesday morning with much more energy than normal, to the surprise of her coworkers, who were quite accustomed to her often stern demeanor. She occasionally showed a playful side, like when she had referred to her orders as 'suggestions' saying that calling her instructions 'orders' or 'rules' would be crossing over into Vegeta's territory too much for her own tastes. Her reputation for standing up to Vegeta on a regular basis and him permitting it and not chewing her out for it was well known, and earned her the respect of everyone in the office.

Goku, or 'Kakarott', as his temperamental boss preferred to call him by his given name rather than his middle, noticed her unusually joyful greeting to everyone in the office. It had a few of her coworkers think oddly of her for acting so out of the ordinary, but none asked her what it was she was so excited about.

Goku knew who she was, everyone in the department knew. He didn't know personally how long she had worked there, but he remembered her being there ever since he started working there two years ago. She was respected by everyone in the office, possibly in the entire building. She was the one of the only women (who was still around, that is) who had never stormed out of Vegeta's office in tears or fear. She remained unperturbed by him, which was quite a feat considering how many women had succumbed to the irresistible urge of talking back to Vegeta.

Nevertheless, even though everyone knew her, Goku had never, not once in his two years of working there, spoken a word to her. He reasoned that this wasn't as pathetic as his inner self wanted to think, as there had been no particular need to converse with her, and he did not report to her even though their desks were relatively close to one another. He had never acknowledged her, and deemed her to be just another coworker. Until that day in Vegeta's office.

She commonly came by Vegeta's office for some reason or another, and as a result tended to interrupt their meetings constructed out of boredom rather than an actual purpose. He hadn't paid her any mind until that day. As he held the door open for her, he finally realized something about her that he had never thought before, and the force of it seemed like that of a great epiphany, like inspiration.

She was beautiful. He had heard others say the same of her, even sometimes in lewder terms, but he had never thought about her in that way before. She had long, very dark hair that seemed to be impossibly straight. As she walked past him he could smell her perfume, a sweet smell, but not too sweet like candy. Looking at her profile as she sat in the chair he had occupied only moments before and seeing her long eyelashes almost cast shadows on her cheeks, the soft intensity of her features had entranced him. He was rudely snapped out of it by Vegeta telling him to get moving, but he thought about it the rest of that day, and he found himself sitting at his desk thinking about it yet again.

The moment could have only been five or six seconds, and he remembered it as such, not bothering to stretch it out for he was not a romantic, but those five or six seconds he remembered clear as crystal. What it meant he still didn't know, but he found himself liking to watch her when he was idle, which was more often than not, nowadays.

He found that watching her today was particularly enjoyable since she was in such a good mood. Seeing her laugh so freely was a rare thing, and seeing it so much in one day was something he wanted to keep in his memory as perfectly as the one of that day he saw her in Vegeta's office, the day he realized he could be falling for the roughest and toughest woman in his workplace.

* * *

><p><strong>One hour later , 10:00 A.M<strong>

A loud knock seemed to echo around Vegeta's office and he slowly swiveled about in his chair. Chichi stood right outside the door. Surprise, surprise. What he hadn't expected was her unfamiliar facial expression. `_That's a new one_,' he thought. Even though he'd known Chichi for awhile and liked to think that he could read people much better than most, he didn't recognize the expression adorning her features. He couldn't quite place it, for it was a strange mixture between worry and apprehension. Then he realized what must have happened and immediately understood. Chichi shyly stuck her head inside and cleared her throat.

"I'm just delivering a quick message," She said monotonously. Vegeta raised his eyebrows, still stony. "Nancy is leaving early."

Vegeta crossed his arms and retorted almost immediately. "Why?"

Chichi paused for a moment and looked at the ground for a moment. It was almost too short to notice, but Vegeta saw the same look from before. Was it fear?

"I think you know why." She said sourly, and then quickly shut the door before he could reply. At first Vegeta remained calm, having no reply for her, but after looking down at his desk for a moment, and then at his watch, he sat up so quickly his chair shot out from behind him. '_Wait a second... ' _

Suddenly in a state of panic that could only be categorized as rage in Vegeta's emotional circuits, he ran to the door, flung the thick glass door open, and looked around wildly.

He spotted her walking quickly yet calmly walking back towards her desk. "CHICHI!" He yelled across the office, his voice coming out dark and gritty laced with his anger. Everyone in the office quickly turned towards him, and then to Chichi, then him again. She turned around with a huff with her hand on her waist, but once she laid eyes on his expression, her hardened countenance became soft yet knotted with tension, and her expression reverted back to fear. She dropped her hand back down to her side.

"What is it?" She spoke with surprising determination despite her apprehension, and her voice that held a strong foundation of confidence in it immediately calmed his burning rage to a simmer. If she had spoken in a tone any more insolent it would have only exacerbated the situation, but her voice had wavered at the very last second. He began analyzing the way her voice had sounded, his mind cranking with effort from matching an interpretation to it. For a reason only he knew, her reaction to this was very important.

He felt a sudden, unsuppressed rush of pride upon seeing her expression and that of everyone in the office turned towards him, and with a cruel smirk he stepped forward. _Might as well make a good show of it..._ He had a walk of purpose and well-trained posture, his head tilted up as if looking down upon everyone he saw. It was at this point that Chichi realized what frightened people about Vegeta. His eyes were boring into her from yards away, the distance seeming shorter because of the intensity of his gaze. With every step that he took toward her, she felt an even stronger sense of foreboding growing in the pit of her stomach.

A million things went through his mind at once. Chichi must really believe everything people tell her... He already knew what had happened to Nancy, but there was a conversation he desperately needed to have with Chichi before anything else happened, before anyone else told her anything, and for her to walk out without even waiting for a response? It infuriated him.

_Just who does she think she is? _He shook his head, stopping directly in front of Chichi. His gaze sliced through her own.

"Come to my office. _Now." _He said in a raspy tone that was soft and threatening. He turned around swiftly and began walking back to his office with purpose, and Chichi followed nervously, feeling the eyes of the entire office upon her.

_God, he's such a drama queen._ Chichi sighed. She was trying to calm herself down into a state where she wouldn't blow up at him the moment the glass door closed behind them. He didn't have to get the attention of the whole office, did he? Wait, of course he did. He was Vegeta, the king of confrontation. What else could she have expected? She knew he reveled in the act of publicly humiliating another, which added to her own personal loathing of him that had been fueled by the story Nancy had told her earlier that morning. When she reached the office, she saw Vegeta waiting for her, holding the door for her with an arm gesture that traditionally meant 'after you', but in this case, the way Vegeta was looking at her made it seem more like, 'The electric chair is right here, take a seat.'

She walked in and sat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk, putting her hands in her lap, and breathing in deeply, taking in the air almost as if she had been holding it. Vegeta sat down in the chair opposite, and said nothing for a moment.

When he opened his mouth to speak, he closed it quickly as if he thought better of it. His eyes ventured to the side, and then he looked out the clear barrier that separated his private office from the rest of the floor, only to see almost everyone in the office looking at them.

_God damnit, where are those fucking shades when I need them?_

If looks could kill, everyone in the office would have been struck down in that moment by the glare Vegeta gave. Instead, half of them nervously looked away, not wanting to have a showdown with their temperamental boss, the other half was too curious to care and looked on anyway. That satisfied him enough, and he turned back to Chichi with a face set in stone, chiseled without compassion, completely emotionless. She stared back as bravely as she could muster, but her thoughts were invaded by the memory of her experience with Nancy in the kitchen, and her subsequent hysterical breakdown that forced Chichi to escort her outside to her car so she could go home.

The things Nancy had told her she could barely fathom and she did not want to even think about them, but she knew that what had happened had to have been Vegeta's doing, and there was an even larger picture that she was being left out of now. She assumed that he intended to fire her on the spot for knowing too much, or interrogate her until there was nothing left but the empty shell of a worker that Seiya Corp must desire of their employees, considering the complete and utter lack of information they gave them. Her gaze hardened at Vegeta's continued silence, yet at that very moment he broke it.

"Let's talk." His voice sounded tempered, as if he had deliberately softened it.

Surprised for a moment, she folded her hands into her lap and stared at him inquisitively, only to be greeted by a blocking forcefield forged by Vegeta, his features set in cement and completely unreadable. _What does he expect me to say to him? Why would I tell him what I know?_

"No, Vegeta. I would have told you before that little spectacle just now if I had something to tell you." She said forcefully, volatile. Vegeta's mental fortifications remained intact, but now his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

Her reaction had just affirmed his thoughts on her current state of mind, and also his previous assumptions about her changed attitude towards him. She was now afraid. She was trying too hard to be her normal hard-skinned self, and the result was a fake-sounding bravado that he could see through just as easily as he knew she saw through his facetious politeness in conversation. He held onto his control, knowing that Chichi frequently surprised him with her ability to manipulate a conversation into her favor.

"...Spectacle?" Vegeta asked provocatively, baiting her.

"Yes. Your behavior just now was completely unnecessary and I have no idea what you are so... _enraged_ about-"

"Don't give me that crap." Vegeta said with an smirk, turning his head to the side and breaking eye contact. Chichi remained silent. Vegeta turned on the office jargon with a sarcastic tone. "I consider it a courtesy to alert you when I am displeased in order to ensure the efficiency of this office."

Chichi scoffed in disgust, crossing her legs and arms in defiance.

"I'll tell you this now so we don't have any _misunderstandings_ on your part, just for the sake of convenience." He shot another glance out the large glass barrier partitioning his office, shooting down curious stares with his signature death glare. Chichi slightly turned her head to watched multiple heads whip around back to whatever they were doing, and she looked back at him once again.

_Why does he want no one looking? Isn't this his show? His chance to humiliate me_? _Vegeta of all people wouldn't want anyone to miss him chewing out his latest victim, so why am I different? He only does this when he's about to..._

Her mind immediately stopped in its tracks as Vegeta's eyes locked with hers. He leaned forward, folding his hands on top of his desk, looking smug.

"First of all. I am not your friend. I am not your equal. I am better than you."

Chichi raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth for a smart retort before being beaten to the punch.

"I do not have time to mess with your insolence." He spoke softly but forcefully, every word articulated perfectly.

She frowned. _He's never talked to me like this before..._

An idea suddenly struck her and she opened her mouth to speak, "But, wait-"

"Shut up." He growled. Offended, Chichi opened her mouth again to retaliate but he cut her off with his sharp glare and sudden tone, "Be quiet... Don't expect any respect from me. You are not my equal, and I am not like Radditz." He smirked at her.

Chichi reddened, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep her mouth closed.

"Oh yes, I know. I will not coddle you like he did, so be quiet for a moment. Agreed?"

Chichi nodded, nostrils flaring. He picked up a pen and began twirling it between his fingers, leaning back in his chair. He took a quick glance out the window, then spoke.

"I am not the idiot you must have thought me to be after you started snooping around six months ago. I've been onto you ever since you started spying on me. Don't try and look innocent or confused, it's pathetic. As if your silly little intrusions weren't obvious enough? Tch. I expected better from you. You are aware that you signed a complete confidentiality agreement upon being hired three years ago, a contract that included a clause stating that you wouldn't seek information that did not pertain to any of your current cases?" Vegeta cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair casually, gauging her reaction. Satisfied, he continued. "As much as I know you would love to continue your little detective game with me, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you as your superior that you cease and desist. This is not negotiable."

Chichi lowered her eyes and instead focused on the woodwork of his desk.

"I'll take it that you understand?"

She remained silent.

"Do you understand?" He barked, making her jolt upward in her seat with surprise. She still did not answer, instead gazing at him with a stare of mixed emotion. His eyes raked her with a disappointed scrutiny.

"I don't know what has you so wary, but as much as I would love to claim responsibility for whatever it is that has had this silencing effect, I'm inclined to ask what you have to say for yourself."

Chichi pursed her lips and finally spoke. "There's something strange going on around here. I had thought so before, for a long time, but after you sent Nancy upstairs I just can't-"

"I did no such thing."

Chichi's stare turned into one of confusion. She finally opened her mouth, only to sputter out fragments. "But you... didn't...? She said..."

"No." Vegeta said with finality, silencing any further exclamations of doubt. "I did not send Nancy upstairs."

Chichi looked down at her hands in embarrassment. She had completely misread the situation at hand and Nancy's words, and as a result made a fool out of herself.

"But who else would've..." She began, but he cut her off with his hand.

"Unfortunately..." Vegeta looked deep in thought.

A sudden pang of worry struck Chichi, a thread of doubt dangling, wondering if maybe Vegeta would actually fire her, but she quickly dismissed the thought. She knew that she was far more valuable to Vegeta than he let on, and that he would not fire her for this particular infraction, as she hadn't really done any harm... Would he?

"I had hoped that this time wouldn't come for a while." Vegeta said. Chichi's earlier dismissal of her offhand suspicions suddenly came back full force. _He wouldn't._

"The time when..."

_Oh, God, I couldn't have really messed up this badly, it was such a bad idea to get mixed up in this huge mess in the first place. Oh God, what will he do to me now?_

Vegeta eyed her for a moment. "...I promoted you."

* * *

><p>NEXT: Bulma's side of the interview, and other fun stuff, like explanations. Yes, I do know where I'm going with this, just thought I'd assure you, haha.<p>

R&R please! Feedback is cool. I love you all, thanks for all of the reviews. They motivate me a lot. :)


	6. First Impressions

Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ. Too bad ):

A/N: I've been working on this chapter for quite some time and now it's finally done! Sorry for the wait. Thanks for the reviews! :) Sorry that this updating process is going a little slow, but I _do_ intend to finish this!

11/27/11 Revised and edited.

* * *

><p><strong>Too Close For Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Five: First Impressions**

* * *

><p>Bulma looked out the window of her car, her eyes out of focus. <em>I should have brought a book.<em> She glanced at the dashboard, rolling her eyes once she saw the time. It was still 11:45, and she was still too early for her interview. She had been waiting for fifteen minutes already. Even though she had taken ample time to get ready that morning, she had assumed it would take much longer to get to Seiya Corp than it actually had, and now she was left with time to sit and worry about the appointment. At first she had contemplated whether or not she should enter the building, show off her punctuality a bit and get it over with early, but she didn't want to seem too eager to be hired.

_Always make them think you're about to be hired by someone else, but be civil about it. You don't want them to think you're wasting their time._ Bulma smiled, mulling over Chichi's words. Setting a time, she settled on going inside at around 11:50 so she could give herself enough time to find the office in the massive building, because for all she knew she was going into the wrong one.

She was vaguely familiar with the massive structure that stood tens of meters away from where she was parked in the nearly-full lot, but she had never known what its purpose was. It was more of a modern design, a set of three buildings with a neatly designed logo, "CC" emblazoned on the side of the largest structure. Even now, she still didn't know what Seiya Corp actually did or meant, as Chichi had been generalizing a lot in her introduction. She instead referred to the sector of the city Seiya Corp was in, and what _those_ companies did rather than what Seiya Corp itself did, or what her own job was specifically. She sighed, both out of exasperation with her friend's sparse descriptions and her growing apprehension.

She was anxious, but she reasoned that sometimes it was good to be nervous, if there's reason for it. Her nervousness wasn't unreasonable in the slightest, since she had never had a job interview before. Ever. She had never needed one. Whenever she worked outside of Capsule Corp, the employer knew her father and had either sent for her or she had been appointed to assist them. She imagined that in an alternate universe, where she hadn't let Chichi set up an interview for her and she had simply looked herself, any employer for a field similar to that of her father's would have simply heard her name and hired her on the spot. She felt very uncomfortable that she was applying for a job and she didn't even know what she would be doing, or whether or not her expertise in technology and computers would even be applicable. Chichi had assured her that her skills were related, but she was not so easily convinced. Office work did not seem in any way related to working with tools. She was normally so confident in her own abilities, why was she now so insecure that she was doubting her best friend's usually infallible words of reassurance?

She looked at the time. 11:47. She re-examined her perfectly manicured nails, overlooking a slight chip. She clasped her hands together and sighed, looking at them contently in an effort to center herself. She allowed her thoughts to come freely. _It's not like this is the end. If I don't get hired, it's not my fault, they just figured my skills wouldn't come in handy. I'm perfectly hire-able. It would be their loss, right?_ She smiled. Her jittery feelings had been wonderfully eased by her own reassurances rather than Chichi's, and she somehow felt triumphant.

She further reasoned that they would be absolutely bonkers not to hire her for whatever it was they were interviewing her for. She could do anything she put her mind to, and when it came to earning her own independence, Bulma knew that her motivation would take her to success if properly utilized.

_But..._

She shook her head and decided that it was futile to wait in the hot car anymore, as it was becoming like a sauna and her interview was coming up. She was beginning to get the feeling that her makeup was melting off. Stepping out, she made her way across the parking lot, feeling very out of place, being the only one walking in at the time. She heard the click-clack of her heels and nothing else, inwardly worrying and wondering if everyone who saw her knew she was going into an interview. She then dismissed this thought because everyone must be inside by then, there couldn't be anyone looking at her. Then why did she have a feeling like there was?

_...But am I doing this for... Me?_

Her warped mirror image surfaced on the door of the building, broken and distorted. She was dressed impeccably, and she meant business. Bulma wanted to adhere to business casual without looking like a schoolteacher, so she added in some twists to emphasize her sense of style. Thankfully her skills in fashion enabled her to dress herself up and look sexy, but not tartly. She let a smile pass her lacquered lips, reminding herself that she looked great and there was no need to worry about impressing anyone, since she was sure to exceed expectations.

She slid through the revolving door, greeting the doorman and security man at the main desk, both who happened to be staring a bit too attentively, which did not go unnoticed by Bulma. The doorman approached her, asking "Do you have a badge?" while holding a scanning device in one hand.

She shook her head. "My name is Bulma Briefs, I'm here for a job interview. Actually, would you mind directing me...?" She innocently pointed to the elevator.

The man nodded and shrugged, putting the scanner back in his pocket. "Who is your interview with?"

"His name is Vegeta." She said after contemplating for a moment.

The guard looked surprised. "Vegeta? Really? Oh, what department is he in now?" He said, sharing a chuckle with the doorman..

"I've forgotten the exact name, but I think the extension for the office phone 147 or something like that, if that helps," she said. _Shouldn't they know?_

"Just hold on one moment." The doorman seemed a little apprehensive in approaching the desk to make the call, glancing back once at her and smiling, and by the time he made it to the desk the security guard was already on the phone. Bulma smiled politely. _Wow, I must look good today._

The phone rang loudly on speaker , both the doorman and the security guard standing over it protectively, seemingly jumping to get the call over with. Finally, a click.

"...Hello?"

Bulma heard a young, naive-sounding male voice on the other line. She laughed a bit to herself. Could this be the notorious Vegeta that Chichi had been talking nonstop about lately? She could hear nothing but kindness in the man's voice.

The doorman quickly replied in a shaky voice. "Yes, there is a woman named Bulma Briefs here to see you, Vegeta... Where should she-"

"Oh, this isn't Vegeta. It's Goku. You guys still haven't changed the extension numbers?"

The security guard's disposition visibly brightened, as did the doorman's. Their tone automatically switched from cautious to cordial."Oh, Goku! We haven't called up there in so long we forgot about the switch-up. Listen, could you let Vegeta know someone's here to see him? I really don't want to call his office, but that's kind of the reason I'm supposed to be calling in the first place..."

_Uh oh..._ Bulma's thoughts raced. So that wasn't Vegeta. Vegeta is actually the guy that even the security guard was afraid to call, so much that he was absolutely relieved when someone else picked up the phone, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. She could hear the security guard babbling on about something in the background while she was absorbed in her own thoughts.

"...So Vegeta's office is on the 26th floor now, right? I wasn't sure if he had moved down from the 49th yet so I was unsure whether or not to change it."

"Dude, that was like over a year ago, you'd think you would have fixed it by now."

"No way! I bet that guy's enjoying the silence since his extension hasn't been rerouted, ha ha ha ha!" A loud booming laugh escaped from the security man's mouth. She listened a bit closer and could hear the man on the other line laughing rather loudly and boisterously on the other line. She rolled her eyes. _What goofs._

A crackle, then the kind voice again. "Sure, I'll let him know she's here. I'll come and get her, okay?" Bulma put her hand up, sputtering in an attempt to articulate an appropriate answer in time, but the security guard let the line drop with a flick of his hand, oblivious to her attempts to insist that she could take herself. Once both of the men looked up at her again, she pasted on her polite smile and thanked them for their assistance. She walked to a small sitting area and decided to take a seat on one of the several comfortable-looking chairs, but she frowned a bit once she realized they were a little stiff once used.

Bulma glanced at her watch. 11:59. What little time she had left to herself she quickly opted to utilize by looking around at the intricate decorations in the lobby, complete with white tile and a fountain as if it were a hotel of sorts. The lobby was almost empty like it was a typical separate office building rather than that of a corporation. The lack of activity struck Bulma as being suspicious rather than serene, the only sound in the lobby being that of the trickling fountain and the meaningless work-chatter taking place between the doorman and the security guard. The frigid atmosphere, along with the cold air blowing through the A/C vent right above her, made Bulma wish she had brought a longer sleeved work jacket rather than a trendy one that ended at the elbows.

She had realized days before that she didn't have many work outfits to choose from, since it used to be that she could wear whatever she wanted to work and there would be no repercussions for inappropriate clothing. Hell, she had even worn overalls with nothing on underneath while working on a project outside one time! All though it was, arguably, a very hot day and she didn't do it for attention... Well, not purely for attention, anyway, that was just an additional benefit. From her old closet, she did manage to pick out a cream-colored suit, with a skirt ending right above the knee. She also wore a bustier-style pink top covered by a trendy jacket with a ruffle, which made the top look a thousand times more decent in her opinion, since all of her previously displayed cleavage was now modestly covered to the point of what she defined as tastefulness. She had also managed to snag a nice pair of Jimmy Choo shoes from her mom's closet that happened to match the outfit. She went a bit more natural on the makeup that day to finish her overall transformation into "office girl", complete with long flowing hair and a hair tie around her wrist, in case it got too hot.

She scanned through all of the questions that Chichi had quizzed her with earlier that morning.

* * *

><p>"Ok, Bulma, we're going to have a practice interview."<p>

"Chichi, it's 8 in the morning, how am I supposed to answer intelligently? Can't we do this later?" Bulma whined. She shuffled over from her kitchen counter in her fluffy slippers and robe, flopping down into her chair, and laying her head down on the armrest.

"Come on. 8 o'clock isn't even that early. If you end up getting hired he might have you come in even earlier than that just for kicks, being the evil bastard that he is."

Bulma took a long sip of coffee, looking up at Chichi as she drank. She put the mug down. "So, what are we doing, here?"

"I'm going to give you some examples of the questions he might be asking you. Just common interview questions. You'll answer honestly first, and then we'll go over what the best way to answer would be."

"Let's do it!" Bulma said in an attempt to be enthusiastic, stretching her arms above her head.

"All right. What are your weaknesses?" Chichi said in a pleasant voice. Bulma sat in thought, then smirked.

"Well, I'm vain, headstrong, and sometimes a total bitch just because it's fun and I like to control people. Perfect for an office job, right? Next question!"

"...You can't be serious."

* * *

><p>Bulma giggled to herself. Chichi had only been over for half an hour because she had to go to work, but the prep that she was given in that short amount of time was still very helpful, even if she messed with her a lot. After all that, Bulma bombing the interview and not getting the job would be even more of a disappointment, especially because of all the trouble Chichi was going through to ensure that she would do well. Just as she turned her head to see the time again, she heard the elevator door slide open with a ding, and after subtly readjusting her clothes she stood, turning around to meet... <em>a giant<em>.

Bulma had never considered herself short. At 5'5, she thought she was pretty average in height for a woman, although she was sometimes mistaken to be a little shorter due to her small frame. Even so, at the moment she was wearing 3 inch platform heels and she still felt absolutely dwarfed by the man in front of her. A bald man, whose height certainly rivaled Yao Ming's, and whose weight distribution was similar to a professional wrestler, stood in front of her, wearing a obviously custom suit and looking totally uncomfortable in it. He looked down at her, frowning.

"Move." He barked.

Bulma then realized her current position wouldn't really be in the large man's way, but since he was the type of guy who apparently needed his space, she scurried to the side, watching him pass in fear and bewilderment. She turned, open-mouthed, watching him walk out the door. _How can a person possibly get that big?_

A kind voice interrupted her thoughts. "Oh, are you Ms. Breifs?"

Bulma turned around and saw a man who was tall, yet not as humongous as the guy he came out of the elevator with. Large spiky hair made him seem even taller, but she guessed he was still about 6'4. She then realized she had been asked a question. "Oh, yes! Yes, I'm Bulma, please call me Bulma," she said cordially, reaching out her hand only to be met in midair with his reaching out at the same moment. They both smiled at one another. Bulma felt a strange warmth resonating from him and felt very comfortable in his presence.

"So, shall we? Wait, ah, I'm Goku. Nice to meet you." He fumbled a bit, but finished his introduction off with a smile. Bulma giggled a bit, not used to his casual way of speaking but accepting it and feeling very relaxed by it. She began to get little butterflies in her stomach, her interview looming closer. She was adamant in ignoring them, even as she felt the pangs of anxiousness slip their way through her mental block.

"Nice to meet you, too. And yes, let's get going, I don't want to be late." She led the way into the elevator, watching as Goku pressed the button marked "26".

As the door closed, the tall man with the kind voice looked over to her with a caring smile. She felt caught off guard by his constant smile as he asked her, "So, not trying to be rude or anything, but I didn't know we were hiring... Any other reason why you're here?"

Bulma laughed a little at the question. While it could be interpreted as rude in its delivery, she just found it to be overly casual, but his intent was clear enough and she didn't mind since she could see he meant well. "Oh, no, I _am_ here for a job interview. I have a friend who works here who put in a good word for me, so, here I am." She gripped her Burberry organizer a little tighter than before, hoping she'd be able to relax before her interview. Her veins were pumping blood so fast she could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

"Oh, gotcha. Who's your friend?" He asked curiously. Bulma looked up at him. His smile was so sweet and open, yet she felt she could tell him anything and he wouldn't utter a single word. She returned the smile, this time with a sweet one of her own. _What a nice guy!_ They had barely spoken, yet she already felt as if she had known him for longer, even though her nerves weren't allowing her to show her appreciation of his kind demeanor, let alone reciprocate it. She inhaled and exhaled slowly.

"Her name's Chichi. She's been working here for awhile, so-" She stopped after noticing it had become difficult for Goku to breathe. She patted him on the back as he had a coughing fit. "Are you all right?"

"*cough* Yeah... *cough* I'm fine... Thanks, Ms. Breifs. I mean, Bulma." He gave her another grin and cleared his throat as the elevator door opened to the 26th floor. She gave him a worried look. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself and focus her energy, but as she opened them to follow Goku, she ended up lagging behind as she became very distracted looking around the office and all of the life it possessed.

The large floor divided neatly by cubicles seemed filled with stacks and stacks of papers with things scribbled or typed all over them, from sketches of gadgets to sheets covered in text with red markings all over them. Bulma tried her hardest to navigate her way through the maze and weave between the many people walking around doing one task or another. Even with Goku as her guide, she was quickly getting caught up in the urgency that everyone seemed to possess, moving around like ants doing labor for their queen.

To her surprise, even though everyone seemed to be pretty busy, everyone still took the chance to stop to look at those who had just arrived in the elevator, especially the unfamiliar blue-haired one. She simply glanced around at them, unsure of how to react, in the end giving them little to go on, not even allowing the first impression to take root in their memories. While she would normally be a social butterfly in this type of situation, running about and introducing herself to anyone and anything that moved, regardless of the appropriateness of the setting, she had thought beforehand that it would be best to keep to herself for now. If she did get the job, she would go back to her chatterbox ways, she assumed, but combined with her inner self keeping her behavior in check along with her nerves tightening with each step she took, it wasn't difficult to fold into herself.

She must have zoned out, for the next thing she knew they had crossed the large, jam-packed room and were now standing in front of a glass door. Her eyes did not focus on looking through the glass, but instead stared at its slightly reflective surface, examining herself but finding that she had nothing to nit-pick regarding her current appearance. Even thought she approved, she didn't even let it give her a confidence-boost, as her mind was closed to just about everything except what was about to happen. Goku looked down at her and stepped back with a small hand motion. She smiled and nodded her thanks. She knocked twice, softly enough to not be disturb but loud enough to get some attention. Directly afterward, she heard a soft and distant voice.

"Bulma! Psssst!"

She turned around and saw Chichi sitting at a large desk about twenty feet away. Distracted, she started to walk over to say hi, but then realized she was there for an interview and had already knocked on the door and had no time to talk, so she just waved. Setting her mind on her current task she turned around to see Goku standing right in front of her, opening the door. She felt a little silly, stepping into the glass-encased office after him, but she finally peeked out from behind him to look around the room, her eyes immediately drawn to who she could only assume was Vegeta. No thoughts registered in her mind at that moment except her sudden flood of determination. She would _not_ lose!

"Hello, I'm Bulma Breifs!" Even though she spouted that line as reflexively as possible, as she had rehearsed it many times, she felt sincere in her excitement to have finally arrived to meet the man himself. Strangely, she felt herself smiling brighter than usual as she looked Vegeta over, watching him stand and approach her.

Rather than a dangerous tyrant, he looked a bit thunderstruck for a couple of seconds before he finally outstretched his hand to meet hers. With her heels on, she was only slightly taller than him, yet the hair spiking out from his head, similar in color and wildness to Goku's, seemed to make him appear much taller, along with his slimming, form-fitting business suit. He was impeccably dressed, she noticed; a three piece gray Zegna suit buttoned up in an avant style. She could guess that he was paid well and took good care of himself, for he seemed to be well groomed and he seemed to ooze aristocracy and also arrogance, solidified by a facial expression like he was to be looking down at her even thought their faces were level. _He looks nice._ Bulma was impressed that he was so clean cut. Perhaps obsessive-compulsively clean-cut, but fastidiousness was never a bad trait in Bulma's eyes. For some reason the first thing she noticed about him before even evaluating his clothes or stature was his smell. His entire office had a certain smell, but she was sure it wasn't cologne, at least not any that she had ever smelled before... What could it be? She took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax. Air freshener? Body odor? It didn't matter, for it calmed her, and she allowed herself to be encompassed in the feeling of calm that overtook her.

* * *

><p>Chichi's shrewd eyes followed Bulma into Vegeta's lair, narrowing once she saw him shake her hand. She saw him falter for a moment and chuckled mischievously to herself. She had purposefully downplayed Bulma's appearance so he would be caught off guard, hopefully to her friend's benefit.<p>

From her desk, she could see one of the chairs and the door along with a bit of area surrounding it, so she was glad that she would be able to watch Bulma, gauge her reactions, and perhaps tell if things were going well. This moment was even more anticipated by her due to the events that took place that morning for reasons she didn't want to think about due to their complexities. Quickly she dismissed the thought as more pressing matters came into play.

_Vegeta, what are you doing? Her face is up there! UP!_

The pencil Chichi had been holding snapped in half in her hand. She looked down, sighed, and tossed it into a drawer filled with broken pencils. She grabbed a new, fresh pencil, and sharpened it violently whilst glaring over at Vegeta in his safe little glass box. Did he have no manners? She had never seen Vegeta act that way around a woman. Even his more bodacious-looking assistants had never succeeded in getting a lewd glance from him, as much as they might have tried. Sometimes he made comments about certain things, but they never were inappropriate for the setting and he was never one to be caught looking. Thankfully, Bulma didn't seem to have noticed, and for the better. For Bulma's temper to flare up at a time like this would be disastrous.

Chichi sat up in her chair as she saw Bulma take a seat, however right as she sat she scooted her chair up, obscuring herself from of Chichi's view, much to her dismay. Chichi pouted, sitting back. _I guess I'll have to wait until later to hear how things went..._

The interview wasn't all Chichi was worried about, after what happened that morning she couldn't keep her thoughts straight. She had gone through the same spectrum of thoughts so many times her head was spinning from going back and forth between her office persona and her true, unbelievably stressed self.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Earlier that morning<strong>_

Chichi made her way into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, stopping when she encountered Nancy tampering with the coffee maker, obviously in distress.

"What's up, Nancy? Is it broken?" Chichi asked with unexpected interest.

Chichi had left Bulma's apartment that morning and she was absolutely glowing with excitement. She was confident that Bulma was qualified enough for the job and now all she had to do was win Vegeta over, which would be harder than her optimistic friend thought. Chichi had little doubt regardless. She knew Bulma could pull off anything if she put her mind to it.

Chichi thought she had asked Nancy a simple question that would require one, maybe two words at the most in response, but after another moment watching Nancy fiddle with the coffee maker, Nancy turned to her, and Chichi immediately realized that something was very wrong. Nancy at first smiled at her in an odd way, but when she opened her mouth to speak, her voice cracked and suddenly erupted into a sob that she quickly contained, but her tears betrayed her as they spilled out of her eyes.

Chichi gasped in surprise and quickly guided her to turn back towards the coffee pot so that people wouldn't see her, their backs to both the office and the door to the kitchen. She wrapped her arm around Nancy's back in an attempt to comfort her unprovoked breakdown, watching in sadness and pity as Nancy struggled with stifling her sobs. Chichi was panicked, but tried the best she could to stay calm. "Ohhh, it's all right. Just take a few deep breaths... It's okay. You're all right." She patted Nancy soothingly on the back, digging frantically in her pocket for the handkerchief that Bulma always teased her for carrying. As the reality of the current spectacle hit her, she took a moment to step outside herself and wonder, '_What the hell is going on?'_

Nancy slowly calmed down, taking large, shaky gasps that came with small hiccuping noises as she tried to soften her sobs. Chichi kept murmuring small words that didn't mean much of anything, but always seemed to calm people down whether they were related to the situation or not. She didn't ask what happened, she just waited for the young blond girl to calm herself. She quickly grabbed the coffee maker as a distraction and began tinkering with it with no real intent in mind, only as a precaution to mask what was really happening. Some things were necessary in order to fend off the women in the office who had nothing better to do than feed off the random drama that came up every once in awhile. After a couple minutes, Nancy was breathing normally but kept drying her tears at regular intervals. Nancy breathed a soft "Thank you," that was almost too quiet for Chichi to hear, but she nodded in acknowledgment all the same. Nancy gulped rather loudly, then took a deep breath.

"I... d-don't think I can work here..." She said quietly, almost a whisper, but her voice kept cracking and a louder, deeper voice would slip through. Her words were punctuated by wiping her eyes or a small sniffle. Chichi's eyebrows drew together in concern and confusion.

"Why? What happened?" She inquired timidly, not wanting to force anything out of a young woman who was so distressed. _What could have possibly happened?_ She had heard about girls coming out of Vegeta's office crying, but she had never been involved in whatever was happening. She suddenly felt a burning fire of indignation raging inside her belly. She gritted her teeth. _Bastard! _What could he have said this time to make another poor girl cry?

Nancy paused for a moment, then began. "I d-did everything like normal, just like he told m-me to... Sometimes I lingered a little too long, b-but I just wanted to help him. W-well, this morning, everything was normal, nothing out of the ordinary, b-but... someone came into the office and wanted to see me. I c-came out and there was a man, a big, BIG man... in a business suit who..." She paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and fanning her face to dry her tears. Chichi nodded, encouraging her. "...This huge guy that I had never seen before, and he told me that Department 5 wanted to see me... on the 49th floor."

Chichi nodded again, giving her a moment to gather herself before she continued. Thoughts were racing through her head, possible connections with what she suspected and the subject at hand... _The 49th floor_? Wasn't that where all the bigwigs did their business?

"What happened up there? What did they tell you?" Chichi asked quietly. It would be a lie to say that she wasn't trying to get information out of the distressed girl, but since her words seemed to comfort Nancy, she didn't see much harm in it when it came to the situation at hand.

"They only said... to be careful, to watch what was going on, that Vegeta..." Nancy cringed and shook her head wildly. "_I can't do this!" _She said loudly, letting her emotion get the better of her. Her tears now spilled out freely and she knelt down to the ground, her hands clutched to the counter, letting her sobs come out loud and clear. Chichi leaned down next to her and patted her on the shoulder, looking around, not sure what to do.

"What is it? What can't you do?" Chichi implored with concern.

Nancy only shook her head, taking several deep breaths. "I... have to get out of here!" She put her hands to her face and rubbed the tears from her eyes.

Chichi was at a loss. What else was there to do? "...I'll help you. Come with me."

* * *

><p>Chichi put her head in her hands, suddenly getting a headache of surprising intensity. She had listened to the rest of Nancy's story on the way down to her car, and while Chichi had been completely emotionless during the telling of her ordeal, she was so distressed she couldn't believe she was still at work. The day felt like it should have been over hours ago, but sadly she wasn't even halfway there. There wasn't much left for Nancy to say except for that she had been confronted and told to watch Vegeta, but Nancy didn't seem to have the constitution to put up with such intimidation, as she had broken down almost immediately, begging to go home. They had let her go back down to continue as if nothing happened, but she couldn't do it. Chichi's conclusion was that Vegeta had sent her up there to be spoken with regarding her behavior of following him around like a puppy-dog, and then it had backfired, but now it seemed like things were far more complicated than she had imagined. Thinking back, that didn't make much sense since Vegeta would have been able to put a stop to that behavior himself, and there would have been no need to report her, but what else was she supposed to have thought?<p>

What made the situation even confusing was Vegeta's reaction. _Promoting_ her? She had been sure she would be fired. That was the main reason why she felt such a strong sense of isolation. Before her talk with Vegeta she had been certain she would be out of this place, so to be thrust back into it in an even higher position than before (the specifics of which she was as of yet unaware) was mind-numbing, just _inconceivable_ on her part.

_Just how does Vegeta's mind work?_

Every reaction the opposite of what it should be, little appreciation for niceties in conversation... Wasn't this what professionals called emotionally disturbed? She knew for a fact that his act as a social bumbler was a facade and he acted that way purely out of enjoyment to see others squirm. His sadistic behavior was strange, and if he had always been that way, why would he be put into a position of power if he had such a cruel personality? Then again, why was Chichi continuing to put up with him? Out of curiosity to figure out exactly what Seiya Corp was about? Was it even worth it anymore?

She felt stressed and tense. There were so many thoughts racing through her head she could barely think. She knew too much. She should have been fired. Set free. Instead, she was called into the office, her heart pumping at a million beats per minute, and told she was to be promoted. Then she was asked to leave and she would be given further instructions. In her shocked stupor, she was too stunned to ask any questions. She would give anything to go back into that office and shout "What the hell is going on?" right in Vegeta's smug little face, or just to ask him why she had been promoted.

She suddenly felt a great amount of pressure, almost like it was clenching her head in a vice. Should she resign? Why would she think that, suddenly? Nothing made sense anymore. What Nancy told her was like adding a completely different level of complication to her life, to her job, to her secret purpose. She was getting what she wanted, the truth, but why was she so disturbed by it?

* * *

><p>Bulma always knew how important a handshake was. Your level of confidence always comes through your handshake, judging by how strong it is. If that idea held any bit of truth, Bulma deduced that the man she was about to sit down with for an interview must be an egomaniac. It wasn't too painful, but her hand tingled a bit from having been squeezed so tightly.<p>

"...Vegeta. Sit." He gestured towards one of two chairs set in front of his massive desk, and as Bulma took her seat, she scooted her chair forward a foot or two. She felt as if this maneuver took him aback because he looked at her a little strangely, but she did not regret it. The chairs were simply too far away to have a good conversation. She set her organizer down on the floor beside her, folding her hands in her lap and crossing her ankles. While she might choose not to use them very often, Bulma Breifs was quite educated in the area of good manners and etiquette. She stared intently across the desk at Vegeta, keeping a calm smile and releasing what she considered to be good vibes. He was shuffling around his desk, looking at papers and then back at her for a bit.

_He doesn't seem that bad. He seems civil enough._

Vegeta cleared his throat and sat back in his chair crossing his arms. "Well, shall we begin?"

She nodded and gave him a winning smile. "Of course." He did not smile back, but simply nodded and pushed aside a paper on his desk to allow himself to read something beneath it.

Ten seconds passed.

"We-"

"I th-"

They stopped and looked at each other, Bulma covering her mouth and Vegeta expressionless.

"I'm sorry, go said, removing her hands and looking down at them in her lap. He nodded again, but then took another ten seconds to speak. Those ten seconds were complete agony for Bulma. The awkwardness of it was unbearable, but she knew she was the only one feeling it, for Vegeta acted as if he was in his element rather than showing any discomfort. Her own uneasiness was becoming more and more difficult to mask. She watched his eyes as they moved across the paper, his brow furrowing.

It was somehow charming how his face remained still and serious while his hair shot out so wildly. "So." He finally looked up at her, stabbing her with his dark eyes. She kept her calm demeanor even though she felt like she'd been targeted by a sniper. "How old are you?"

She opened her mouth to answer quickly but she stopped. Why was he asking her these questions? Didn't it specify in her resume all of those personal details? She looked in his eyes again and her doubts went out the window. It must be to test her people skills or just to test to see if she was articulate or competent. Well, she'd show him! "I'm 26." Well, that was eloquent...

"You're a little young to be looking for an office job." Hanswered quickly, his baritone grating. She detected that his tone was a little condescending, but decided to ignore it. _He must be messing with me, how is 26 too young? Chichi and I are the same age..._

"Is it? I thought it was about time to get serious." She said amiably.

"Oh?"

"I've been working for my parents but I thought it was time to move on." She brushed some hair behind her shoulder and crossed her legs. This comment seemed to catch his interest, for she saw a strange spark of recognition shine in his eyes, but it left as quickly as it came.

"Really."

"Yes, I thought it was time I lived independently and made my own way. I can't rely on their kindness forever." She said truthfully, with some sadness, an emotion she hadn't intended to portray at all in the interview. He either didn't catch it or didn't care because he simply ran his hand through his hair and continued asking her more questions.

"What did you do?"

The question had little intonation and it was difficult for her to decipher what exactly he was referring to, but she came up with what she considered to be a satisfactory answer. "I worked with tools. My father is an inventor and I helped him research and build his creations." She decided not to embellish what the work actually was, for if he wanted details regarding a job having little to do with the one she was seeking, he could very well ask.

Vegeta's eyes lit up even brighter than before, and he sat up in his chair in a mixture of surprise and realization. It was the most emotion Bulma had seen him show since the interview began. While he looked surprised for a moment, his voice stayed stagnant. "...Really? By any chance, are you the daughter of-"

"Dr. Briefs of Capsule Corporation? Yes, I am." She said proudly with a smile.

"I see." Vegeta leaned back in his chair once again, gears turning in his head, biting on the end of a pen and looking directly down at his desk. Bulma was unsure of what to make of his reaction, but after a long pause she decided to interject upon his thoughts, whatever they were.

"But, that's not the type of work I am seeking. This is an office job, isn't it?" She asserted with a hint of defensiveness. Vegeta picked up on it perfectly and responded almost as quickly as she ended her sentence.

"No no, it's not relevant..." He smirked at her. "Simply interesting." She was caught off guard and again didn't know how to reply, disarmed by his smirk. They sat like that for awhile, a strange atmosphere surrounding them, just looking at one another; Bulma sitting without words, and Vegeta's mind spinning with a trademark smirk plastered on his face, neither of them backing down for a moment, their eyes locked with one another. Finally, Bulma shot back a smooth smirk of her own, wiping Vegeta's off his face in the process.

"So, any more questions?" She asked.

"Tch." Vegeta shook his head, for what reason Bulma didn't know.. Once again, she felt uncomfortable and odd, a feeling possessing her that she couldn't quite describe. Emptiness. Could it be a strong, overwhelming desire to run away? But why? The comfort she had felt upon first entering his office had completely dissipated, replaced by unease. Vegeta picked up her resume and scanned it for a moment, then looked up at her again. "So, if you've never had any experience in working in an office..." His face was deadpan, his tone now obviously condescending. "Why should I hire you?"

She paused in thought for a moment, then answered. Chichi had prepared her for this, for the discomfort she would feel in his presence, for the questions he would ask, and what she should say. "I am diligent, eager to learn, and a fast worker, all traits that are necessary for working in an office, and I am sure that I'll succeed at whatever you put in front of me. I'm very driven, and..." Bulma paused, about to say more, but was interrupted.

"Usually..." He began, cutting her off. She was a little irritated but allowed him to continue out of respect. "...I'd say we'd call you in a couple of days, but since there's no one else being interviewed for the job, I'll ask you this." Hleaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on the desk. "When are you available to come in and work?"

Bulma brightened. "Oh, anytime! I-"

"Perfect. You're hired."

"What?" Bulma was dumbstruck. That had definitely been easier than she thought it would be. "Really? For what position would I-"

"Don't be stupid. If you're so eager to work you'll do whatever job I give you." He said with another strange smirk on his face. "Since you'll succeed at whatever I put in front of you..."

Bulma snorted, and couldn't help a retort. "Yes, well, there's no need to be rude..."

He shrugged. "Come in tomorrow at 10 AM. My office. I'll see what job I can give you."

She suddenly jumped up from her chair as if a volt of electricity had struck her, and she couldn't hide her excitement. "Really? Oh, that's wonderful! Thank you so much!" She reached her hand out to shake his, but he simply looked at it, letting a moment pass before pushing it down gently with his own. His eyes cut into hers, but she maintained eye contact even though she felt strangely... revealed.

"Tomorrow. Be here." hand still on top of hers. He removed it but did not remove his eyes from hers until she broke the gaze.

She nodded to him as she made her escape, back-stepping to retrace her steps out of the boxy office that was becoming stifling. "It was nice meeting you, Vegeta." She gave him another smile, and he acknowledged her with a nod so slight it was difficult for her to notice that he had even responded to her in any way. She exited the office with a little sashay, immediately skipping over to Chichi to tell her the news. Vegeta watched her go out, expressionless. His mind was whirling.

_That was easier than I thought it would be._

_Everything is beginning to fall into place._

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed that long chapter. I'll try and update as soon as I can, but who knows when that will be, right? Please give me some reviews for motivation. :)


	7. Changes

Disclaimer: Don't own DBZ.

I'm sorry that this is going a little slow story-wise, but little by little, the rating should be going up... ;) Also, things will be getting more and more AU, but I just hope my writing does it justice.

11/28/11 Revised for continuity and quality.

* * *

><p><strong>Too Close For Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Six: Changes**

* * *

><p>Shapes blurred together in a foggy mirror, molding into one another yet failing to create anything recognizable. Vegeta wiped the mirror with a hand, drying himself off with a towel, avoiding his own gaze. He didn't know that man in the mirror. He was no longer himself. He knew he was the same person, possessing the same mind, he just felt undeniably altered. Looking at his reflection felt like looking at a stranger.<p>

Plenty of things hadn't changed. He liked to dwell on this fact. As long as he thought simplistically, suddenly his problems didn't seem so daunting. For one thing, his mind was the same. His face was the same. His hair was the same, at least _that_ had been the same for as long as he could remember. Only now everything was undeniably different. His insides were new, unfamiliar, encased in a new impenetrable shell, protected from physical harm, and his mind was the same, blocking any mental invasions. Unwanted feelings could be easily tossed aside, disappointments forgotten with so little effort. Instilled in him was a new determination, a drive, a new motivation for everything that he put his mind to, let it be menial office work or the massive otherworldly purpose he had been assigned to, albeit willingly. While he was glad for it, or he told himself as much, he knew that it was only for alien reasons that he was becoming so different, and he certainly wouldn't have changed like this without any outside input.

The changes he had experienced were astounding, he was sure he had yet to experience the limitations he could now push himself to. He felt as if the body he had possessed _before_ was just a waste of human flesh in comparison to his new and improved body. Faster. Stronger. Tougher. He was just an outline of his former self, so altered that he could no longer recognize his body. Muscles even on his shoulders, each move of his fingers bringing a twitch of this tendon or that vein. Everything was effortless. He curled his fingers together, flexing his arm for a moment, watching in awe as everything bulged accordingly.

Of course, everything he had achieved had been through hard work, but not as hard as the average man. He still refused to be put on the same level as the other 'creatures', regular men now turned freaks of nature. He had been originally opposed to the idea of even joining in, but once challenged he was never one to back down, and he seemed to be reaping the benefits, at least for now.

His cooperation was all to assist their efforts later, but did he really want to anymore? He still had a degree of regret for things he had done to land him in his current position. Not regret for his intent, but for the way he carried things out. Now he was in hiding, in a way, and in a lower position as a result, but not a day went by where he wasn't reassuring himself, telling himself that he should be glad to be where he was and not even lower down.

Toweling off his hair, he slowly and methodically began dressing himself. His flat was pathetically small in comparison to his previous quarters. He hadn't just been demoted career-wise, it was like he had been demoted in life_._ The only reason he was in his current location was for the benefit of everyone, but in all honesty, Vegeta didn't care much where he lived. Money and status meant little to him, as long as he had enough to look good and play around a bit, but it meant much less than it did years ago. He used to be obsessed with his standing in the company, doing everything he could to either maintain his position or move up. It had helped that his father was a previous high-ranking employee, but it didn't guarantee him anything. Back then, Vegeta had vied for a high position and touted his father's previous importance to the company as reason to hire him, but nowadays he preferred to try and pull himself up by his own bootstraps, especially with all that he knew now. As much as he would have liked to think so, he wasn't entitled to anything. There was a harsh wake-up call for that realization.

He still lived comfortably, but it would be better if it weren't for his lousy neighbors. One side had been utterly silent for the most part, except for some hammering on the wall that he had heard earlier in the week, while on his other side lived a very sexually active couple that would copulate often, and very loudly, which sometimes woke him in this sleep. Part of him didn't mind, the other part felt this strange, uncomfortable feeling that he couldn't identify. A pit deep in his stomach that ached, but not from hunger. An emptiness. Not that he had a problem with that sort of thing, people could do what they wanted, for all he cared, right?

He shook his head. He had more pertinent things to be thinking about. First, what should he tell Chichi? Surely she couldn't have slept well after the craziness her fragile mind had gone through the day before. Should he say something to her? Well, he had to, or she could force him to, which was a likely option. He couldn't let himself think that she'd let him off the hook that easily. As a woman of determination, Chichi wanted answers, and fast, but how thoroughly should he brief her...? Would enlisting her help be a mistake?

After getting dressed, he looked in the mirror one last time, adjusting the watch he wore religiously. No, nothing had changed. The real change was still yet to come, and he hoped that it would be in his favor. He grabbed his briefcase, put on his shoes and as he was locking the door to his apartment he felt an annoying buzz in his pocket. Straddling his keys in his teeth and briefcase under one arm, he yanked the phone out of his pocket, emitting an irritated grumble once he glanced at the caller-ID. He flipped it open.

"What." He had contemplated rejecting the call but figured it could be important, a decision he quickly regretted once hearing the cheerful tone on the other line.

"Good morning!"

He sighed. "What is it, Kakarott? This had better be urgent. I'm about to see you in like 15 minutes, you idiot, couldn't you possibly wait?" He was feeling calm, as the goof on the other line hadn't done anything to anger him just yet, but he figured it wouldn't take long.

"I guess it could wait..." He sounded confused, as if Vegeta's steady tone had changed his mind.

"Don't guess. What is it." He got on the elevator, fiercely pushing the main floor button as if it would go faster the more times it was pushed.

"The meeting has been rescheduled." Pausing for a moment, Vegeta could sense a strange tone in his voice.

"Which one. The important one?" The elevator doors opened and he stepped off with a little bit of urgency.

"Ah, you see, the thing is-" Vegeta saw someone pass by him and didn't think anything of it, but with a flash of recognition he turned around quickly, only to see the elevator doors closing. Only half-listening to Kakarott prattle on about meaningless things, he suddenly thought of the woman he interviewed just the day before. He rationalized that it must have been someone who looked like her and had reminded him of her, but he couldn't help but think that maybe he had seen her. Even now he couldn't place her name. He definitely still remembered what she looked like, however, _that_ he couldn't forget...

"...Vegeta? Vegeeeeee-ta? Are you listening?"

"No." He abruptly hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket. _That will teach him to ramble on and on like a moron._

* * *

><p>The morning breeze whirled around Bulma. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, letting her senses soak in the beautiful morning. The sounds of the hustle-bustle of the city were almost inaudible from where she stood, a good distance away from her old home. She wasn't used to hearing the muffled sounds of traffic, so far away it wasn't offensive to the ears, but back at Capsule Corp (at <em>home<em>) she was in the heart of the city, and nothing went unheard. Car alarms, sirens, helicopters, and every other man-made annoyance was a personal intrusion into her world, but Bulma had learned to live with it. She was comfortable with the spotlight. She didn't miss it terribly, as she considered it a relief to finally have some privacy.

Now she had all the silence in the world, so much of it she didn't know what to do with it, or what to do with herself. Get a job, get into the corporate world, prove you're self-reliant. Those were her goals, and she would go to great lengths to achieve them. So far, so good.

She could barely sleep the night before, so she had woken up quite early, and had even gone for a walk earlier that morning in her jogging clothes. Never much of a morning person, she seldom let herself enjoy things like watching grass being blown around, listening to the whistling wind, letting herself bask in the morning sun. She had always been cramped up inside, working her ass off. Not that she didn't like working, she liked to think she was in the minority when it came to people who enjoyed their jobs, but now she'd be working more than ever, except this time she had someone other than her father to report to. She couldn't go off and do what she wanted anymore. There had been plenty of time for play on her part, spent either on keeping up with friends and her boyfriend or fooling around in the city. For her age, this was not unusual, but suddenly she was immersed in a world where she would be forced to be independent for the first time in her life. Standing alone on the balcony, it gave her a good feeling, like she was achieving her purpose.

She grabbed her phone, held to her waist by the seam of her pajama pants, and checked her inbox. Nothing. Bulma was shocked that Chichi hadn't called her back yet. Bulma had been quite disgruntled after having an unsettling conversation with her friend after her interview. People who didn't know Chichi as well as she did would say that she was acting normal, actively participating in the conversation, but Bulma knew better. Her friend had seemed hardly curious in how the interview had gone, even though she had been asking her enough questions to give the impression of acting normal. Even more strange was that she hadn't returned her calls, a first for Chichi. She would usually either call right back or send her a text message, but this time there was nothing. Bulma was even more anxious since they wouldn't be seeing each other during her first day of work, since it was Chichi's day off, but if she knew anything, she knew that it was highly possible for her to do this alone and without assistance from her friend. Even though Chichi had set up the interview, Bulma knew she could handle it. At least she thought so.

After thinking for a bit more, she decided to send her friend an encouraging text message to let her know that she was worried and thinking of her. '_You shouldn't keep things bottled up inside. Call me later.'_

She snapped the phone shut, returned it to it's place on her waistband, and dangled her arms over the edge of her balcony, letting her elbows rest on the cool metal. She sensed movement and peered over the edge. A man and two children were making their way up the grassy knoll. He held a picnic basket and the children were squealing playfully, trying to wrap each other up in a large blanket. She watched them slowly make their way up the hill, the father stopping frequently to turn around and beckon them forward. Bulma's heart sank. All of the feelings of homesickness she had just banished from her heart were returning with a vengeance. She closed her eyes tightly, willing all of her emotions away. After taking a few deep breaths, she returned her gaze to the small family trekking up the hill. Once they made it to the top, the man laid out the picnic blanket and sat down, watching the two young girls chase each other. He couldn't be any older than she was, and Bulma suddenly felt the pit of emotions inside her widen and deepen, choking her up with loneliness. The man began to look up and around, and finally set his eyes on Bulma. She froze. She wasn't so far up that he couldn't see her, and she began to feel a little strange for watching them. Making a step backward to go back inside, she stopped when she noticed him waving at her. She looked around for a moment, and then waved back. He smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. The man put his arm down and beckoned the girls to him to start their picnic.

Bulma felt an odd, cathartic feeling from the event, feeling good that people she didn't even know could be kind. This was tough to find in the city, but she felt a little bit of this every day, realizing that some people aren't so bad, that there is goodness in the world, but all of the bad seemed to swallow it up sometimes.

She suddenly felt a jolt of realization. Looking at the time on her phone, she bolted inside and quickly started getting undressed.

"_Shit, I'm going to be late for my first day of work!"_

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><p><em><strong>Seiya Corp<strong>_

_**10:00AM**_

Resting his chin on his palm, Vegeta scrolled through e-mails with a bored look on his face. Nothing ever changed. Get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, watch TV, go to bed. It was only recently that his schedule had gone haywire and it was definitely taking a toll on him. He was tired, yet now he was completely healed and thought nothing more of the events from that week. He was now far more irritable than usual and had far less tolerance for stupidity, which was a tough one to enforce since that particular trait happened to run rampant in his office.

He looked at the clock. 10:02 AM. The woman he interviewed the day before should be there soon and he had just remembered. He shifted his eyes little frantically for a moment then realized he had already thought about what he was going to do and how he was going to handle it. He opened the drawer on his left side and pulled out a pen and a notebook. He looked out at the office, spying on them from behind his glass wall. After affirming that everything seemed to be going smoothly, he uncapped the pen. Nudging the pen nib towards the paper, he suddenly froze.

_What was her name?_

Damn... He couldn't even remember her name and he met her yesterday? He did remember her last name, however. Briefs. That was the important part, Briefs. He also remembered that when he heard her name it reminded him of a porn star. And why not? Her first name and last name both started with one letter, and her name was slightly sexually suggestive. _Not that I pay that much attention to porn stars, of course_...

He looked his watch. As if out of habit, he began tapping his foot and he glanced at his watch again. _That woman is late._ 10:08 AM and no sign of her. He didn't see her as the late type, but then again, it was her first actual job outside of her father's employment. Perhaps he needed to teach her a lesson. If she expected to be coddled, he'd set her straight very quickly. Set that girl straight, whatever her name was.

He opened the drawer on the right and flicked through a few folders, searching for her resume so that he could remember what her name was and not make a fool of himself, if possible. Finally finding it, he snatched it with his hand and-

_Tap tap tap..._

He looked up and saw the woman standing outside the door, her hand outstretched and delicately tapping on the glass door. She looked sheepish. But good in tweed and heels. He smirked to himself. He nodded so slightly she paused for a moment, then realized he had acquiesced and opened the door.

Instantly a flurry of words came rushing out of her mouth, "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I-" He gave her a glare and put up a hand to silence her.

He slowly stood, keeping her eye contact the entire time. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a moment. Confused, he bent his head down and looked at her resume. Her name. _Oh yeah._ He snapped his head back up. "Bulma." She noticeably stiffened, taken aback by the strict use of her name. He looked at the clock pointedly, and then back to her. It was 10:10 AM. She had met his eyes until then, now they had dropped to her feet, like a child being scolded, only to look back up quickly to join back with his.

"You're late." He said with distaste.

She nodded and sighed. He could tell there were lots of thoughts going through her head but she couldn't decide on the right one to say. She clutched her organizer a little tighter, straightening her shoulders. "I know. I apologize."

Vegeta looked at her a little longer and decided to drop it. If she did anything else wrong that particular day it would be much more enjoyable to throw it in her face _then_, and there were much more important matters to be seen to. "Sit," He said. She complied, scooting her chair closer to his desk once again, crossing her legs daintily and beginning to smile at him. An apologetic smile. He looked her over again. He decided to play with her a bit. Suddenly he smirked at her and caught her off guard.

"Why are you wearing that?" He watched her as she quickly looked down at her clothes, distressed, so quick that if he wasn't watching her properly he wouldn't have noticed. She couldn't find anything wrong with her outfit, she was always dressed impeccably. She deemed everything she wore perfectly wearable and seasonally appropriate.

"Because I like it." She replied confidently.

He leaned back in his chair. "But, it's summer." She looked confused.

"You can wear tweed in the summer." She said, a twinge of defensiveness in her voice.

"Not that." He waved his hand and then pointed to her neck. "The neckerchief." She tugged it softly. It was silk with a simple design that matched her suit, tied delicately around her neck. She laughed a little. Vegeta hadn't been expecting that.

"I didn't know this company had such a strict dress code!" She said with a smile. "Do you not like it?" She asked. He glared at her.

"No, it's ugly."

"Why not?" She asked curiously, looking at the fabric, still smiling. Vegeta was beginning to get annoyed. She wasn't acting the way that he wanted her to and she was treating his words as if he were teasing her. Sure, he guessed that his words could be taken in a teasing way, but Vegeta did not do something as childish as teasing. Why wasn't she cooperating? Why wasn't she intimidated by him? Eager to please him?

"It serves no purpose." He said blandly, still glaring.

"Hmm. That's too bad." She said with joy. "I felt so '50's when I was walking in this morning and the wind was blowing it around!"

It was as if everything she said was purely for her own enjoyment. When Vegeta did not respond to her comment, instead of becoming unnerved, she continued to smile and crossed her legs patiently. He wanted to choke her with that damned scarf thing. She wasn't as fun as he had thought she would be.

Vegeta cleared his throat, ready to change the subject. "Well, since you're here, finally..." He said, glancing at the clock and then back to her. "We should discuss the conditions of your job."

"Yes, I would like that very much," Bulma said with yet another smile. _Is she this happy all the time? It's getting on my nerves._

"First, you'll get to fill out some thrilling paperwork. This should be the highlight of your day." He rummaged around in a bin under his desk for a thick pamphlet and a clipboard tightly gripping a thick set of papers. He set it in front of her. "This is the manual." He pointed to the pamphlet. "This is what you fill out. Do it." He pushed it forward to her.

Instead of getting up and taking the clipboard of papers back to her seat, Vegeta was surprised to see her scoot up her chair towards his desk and use the side facing her as support. Had anyone else done that he would have felt a rage as she leaned her arm on his desk, her other hand pushing her hair back behind her ear for a moment then returning back to pick up the pen, but watching her fill everything out diligently with a look of determination on her face was... charming, for some reason, and not enraging. She hadn't even looked to him for approval to use his desk, she had just done it.

Ten minutes passed in silence as Vegeta continued to check his e-mails and people filed in and out to give him their reports. Instead of feeling the constant, irritating presence as he did most of the time when there was someone in his office, he had nearly forgotten she was there, except for the scribbling of her pen on the stack of papers.

He could get used to this.

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><p>AN: Hope you're enjoying it! Please read and review!


	8. Nostalgia

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they've really helped me speed this along! I'm sort of changing my writing style a bit for the sake of the story to help things flow a bit better, so I apologize if the difference is too obvious.

Lots of things to cover, so let's get to it! Hope you enjoy. Please review!

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><p><strong>Too Close for Comfort<strong>

**Chapter Seven: Nostalgia**

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><p>Putting her pen down with a frustrated sigh, Bulma stopped writing to shake her hand wildly for the second time after starting to fill out the mountain of paperwork Vegeta had given her. While it didn't provide much relief mentally, somehow it gave her the feeling of loosening up the tightened muscles in her hand. Was she holding the pen too tightly? She knew she had a habit of doing that, so it was hard for her to write for a long period of time. <em>This is what computers are for!<em> Bulma was starting to get a little irritated with the monotony. Writing down the same information over and over was quite tedious, even though each form she filled out was for a different purpose. It was mostly personal information, a couple questionnaires about job integrity, and mandatory employee safety forms.

Strangely enough, she had been in his office for forty-five minutes and he had not spoken a word to her, and she dared not even breathe wrong in his presence due to his scrutiny. His previous display of nitpicking her outfit left her a little unnerved. She knew he was just trying to intimidate her and see how eager to please she was, and while she _was_ eager to please him for the sake of her job, she wasn't about to go around at his bidding and wait on his hand and foot, let alone dress the way he specified. What was she supposed to do, offer to take it off? She had found his behavior weird, and it had caught her off guard for a moment when she considered how quickly she had gotten dressed that morning in her failed efforts to make it to work on time, but she simply didn't see why he had felt the need to mess with her like that. She could play that game if he wanted, and he obviously wanted her to_._ He seemed to be underestimating her brain power. _What a stupid thing to do, especially to a Breifs._ Bulma smiled to herself, in spite of the dull pain in her hand, picking up the pen with vigor to fill out the rest of the papers quickly so she could get started working on something more interesting.

Vegeta quickly glanced up at the woman in his office filling out paperwork on his own desk. It was odd for him to be around another person in such close proximity for so long in a single day, except maybe for Kakkarott, whose presence was seldom desired in the first place. He seemed to grow upon Vegeta's very existence like a barnacle. He just couldn't get rid of that guy. Was he trying to watch him or something? He'd have to look into that a bit later. He wasn't always unpleasant to talk to, though, and Vegeta supposed that could be considered a plus. In contrast to Kakarott's intrusive presence, Bulma was easy to dismiss. He could kick her out of the office any time he pleased, but for some reason he hadn't, and had instead tolerated her presence, which was surprisingly not difficult at all. He had not spoken to her even once since she began writing. He somehow enjoyed the silence. It was like he was alone, even though he wasn't, but for a rare moment in his daily life, he was okay with that, existing in that moment. A comfortable quietness.

For some reason, since the girl had entered his office, people who had passed by his door with an intent to speak with him had suddenly veered away and busied themselves with something else. Ah, the benefits of a glass wall! Vegeta had developed a sense of self-satisfaction in that his employees would take any excuse to not bother him, even if it was a lame one. Any other office and they would be scrambling in with lame excuses to meet the new recruit.

Suddenly, Bulma cleared her throat and he quickly turned his head towards her.

"I'm finished!" She claimed victoriously, a large smile of accomplishment gracing her features. He gestured with his hand and she passed him the clipboard.

He checked his watch. Almost an hour, and it had felt like no time at all. She had completed the papers rather quickly. He chuckled a bit. "I'm surprised you've lasted this long."

She was flooded with an uncomfortable, sour feeling of confusion, but it was quickly replaced by that of smugness. _Messing with me again, eh?_ "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, not just job-wise, but staying in my office for this long without being ordered to leave or leaving voluntarily." He casually flipped through the papers she had just painstakingly filled out, checking for any inconsistencies or spots that she had missed.

Bulma almost rolled her eyes but quickly stopped herself. "Pff," She shook her head. "If anything, that's a great accomplishment on my part! Quit trying to scare me off. You couldn't be _that_ intolerable."

He looked up at her briefly, his face branded with a scowl. She returned it with one of her own for a split second, but then gave him a sweet smile in replacement. Charmingly forced, of course. He rummaged around for his pen and clicked the end of it, at the ready to mark out anything just in case she had made the slightest mistake. She knew he wouldn't even have to use it. There was yet another silence, but free of the discomfort and awkwardness that had permeated it just the day before. Suddenly, his face twisted into a smirk.

"That's a challenge if I ever heard one."

Bulma allowed herself a short laugh at his late reply. She smiled, yet said nothing, watching him continue to read things over. It was probably wrong to imitate familiarity with someone so unpredictable. Why was he messing with her like that? He was definitely an odd one.

She leaned back in her seat, relaxing a bit as she listened to the almost inaudible tick of the clock. After spending some time together, even if they said almost nothing to each other, the air of uneasiness had almost dissipated yet she was left with a light, butterfly-like feeling in her stomach. She was unfamiliar with that form of anxiety, as she had never felt nervous talking to people she didn't know well before.

_Is this how you feel around your boss?_ She had never met someone that she had wanted to impress, or needed to prove herself to. She wasn't even sure that he would become that person to her, as that would verge too much on admiration for her liking, but wasn't that what a boss was?

She was sure that there were bosses out there who got along with their staff famously. Ones who attended staff parties, had a desk out among their peers despite their superior positions, or even maintained close friendships with those they employed. Bulma examined Vegeta carefully, from the stiff way he sat himself in his comfortable-looking chair to his deeply furrowed brow. Indeed, he was not that type. What type was he, then? Would be scream at her if she made a mistake? She hadn't seen him raise his voice above a level appropriate for indoors, but from the stories Chichi had told her, he was quite capable of such abilities. She wasn't one to doubt his potential for meanness or cruelty, even though she hadn't yet encountered such behavior herself, at least not to an extreme level. Bulma couldn't imagine herself being yelled at by someone she didn't know very well and not saying anything back for the sake of her future employment. Would she even be able to keep her mouth shut, if the time came that he yelled at her? _Probably not._ She couldn't imagine what she would do if she was fired for being insolent. She'd probably laugh, but Chichi probably wouldn't find it too funny. If he were older than her then it might make sense, but... A sudden question struck her thoughts and it slipped out with little thought.

"How old are you?" After the words escaped her lips, Bulma wanted to close her eyes and chide herself for not even thinking before speaking, but for the sake of her pride she kept her gaze steady.

He didn't even look up. "Very."

"Haha. Very mature answer."

Vegeta's unexpected glare shot down Bulma's high spirits, making her think she had been a bit too playful with him. _I guess he can dish it out but he can't take it._ He softened the intensity of his scowl and returned his attention to her paperwork.

"That was a rude question to begin with." He said casually, not sounding offended.

She felt a bit irked at that comment. "Well if that's the case, you were rude to ask it in the first place!" His subsequent confusion pleased her greatly. _He doesn't remember_.

"I didn't ask you-"

"You did. During my interview you asked me how old I was." She crossed her arms. He slowly looked up at her. "You aren't even supposed to ask that as a question, right? To someone being considered for a job, anyway, right? With equal opportunity and whatnot." She thought she saw his eye twitch, but she wasn't sure.

"Hn." He looked back down.

She was met with yet another silence. _Fine then, be that way._ She didn't expect him to answer, but it would have satisfied her curiosity. Why had she asked that in the first place? She couldn't remember. The whim had probably just struck her very suddenly, as things often did. She turned her head towards the glass wall that separated his office from the department. People were making quite a fuss about something, everyone was getting out of their chairs and either hurrying to finish a task or walking out of the office area into the break room. She saw the tall guy she had met in the elevator the day before making his way over to the office with a silly grin plastered on his face. She remembered him very well, and his name sprung to her mind like that of a familiar friend.

"Ah, it's Goku!" She said with a degree of excitement as he approached the door, opening it without knocking. His eyes lit up with recognition as he greeted her with a smile, while Vegeta didn't make any notice of his presence at all in his office.

"Hey, it's Bulma!" She gave him a sugary smile in return. "So, I see you've finished the legendary pile of paperwork?"

"Haha! It certainly was tough, but-"

Vegeta cut her off, his eyes still scanning the paperwork. "Take her on break with you. I've got other things to do and you can carry out your small talk elsewhere."

Goku teasingly feigned anger, crossing his arms with a pout. "Yikes, someone's grumpy today!" Vegeta growled at him with impatience and Bulma struggled to muffle a giggle, yet she wasn't without a sense of urgency, so she stood up quickly. "Bulma, let's go, we should leave the boss man to do...Whatever it is he does in this office all day long. I'll show you around." She delightfully acquiesced and let him lead the way out of Vegeta's office.

Once she exited, it was like a massive pressure had been lifted off her shoulders and the muffled sounds from the outside returned to her now in full volume, like she had been shocked back alive after being in a state of semi-consciousness. It was like she couldn't think correctly or clearly as long as she was in that room.

"So how was your first trip to the dungeon?" Goku asked her playfully as they walked toward the elevator. Bulma allowed herself another smile, but she didn't want to appear too giddy to finally be out of there.

"I somehow managed to escape unscathed! Thanks for your early rescue." He gave her a corny thumbs up with a wink, welcomed with Bulma's laughter, and they stepped inside the elevator. They somehow managed to squeeze themselves inside along with more than ten other people. Bulma found herself noticing that there were mirrors in the elevator, as if to make it seem like there were even more people than there actually were. She felt slightly claustrophobic for a moment, but thankfully they weren't in the elevator for long. As they stumbled out on the bottom floor, they lost each other in the confusion for a moment as everyone who had been in the elevator rushed outside to have a smoke, but Goku dramatically maneuvered himself out of the way of the stampede and over to Bulma. He shook his head.

"Do you smoke?" He asked.

"Well... sometimes. I don't think I'd ever smoke at work. I don't want my clothes to smell all nasty from being around so much smoke outside with everyone." She said. Goku nodded and led her over to a small cafeteria on the first floor with a glass door that she had somehow failed to notice on her way in, probably due to the rush she had been in. That morning she just about broke the heel of her shoe off, running like a madwoman through the parking lot to the elevator. As she saw the security guards at the front desk, she gave a small wave and an apologetic smile, since she hadn't gotten the chance to greet them that morning, either. She hoped that in the hopefully unlikely circumstance she were to be let go in her first week that they wouldn't remember her as the one girl who ran in the building running late on her first day, slamming the button for the elevator repetitively until it arrived without so much as a hello. To her relief, they waved back with a smile. Goku opened the door for her and she stepped in.

The cafeteria was flooded with natural light, shining crisply through a wall of very large floor-to-ceiling windows. Tiny little booths were squeezed up in front of them, back to back like they were placed inside a little family-owned restaurant, along with free-standing tables and chairs for people to maneuver around as they wished, either to group up with their coworkers around a small table or to sit by themselves. The connection was undeniable, it quite vividly reminded her of how her high school cafeteria looked, with cliques sitting together in the school lunchroom, large windows and all. '_Where was I, during those times?'_ she wondered as she gazed around the room at people chatting amicably with one another. It had been forever since she had last thought of high school. She remembered all of the time she spent in the hallways goofing around between classes (and sometimes during), yet somehow with little effort getting the best grades in her class, even graduating as the valedictorian two years early. To those students who worked harder than her yet couldn't manage to surpass her, this was her most annoying trait, however she had always remained blissfully unaware of those outside of her social circle, which was, in her own opinion, the greatest fault of her younger years. Being inconsiderate of others to an extent was what fueled her 'spoiled rich girl' image in high school, yet her smarts were what made her even more of an enigma among her peers.

Looking out the large windows of the cafeteria, she realized that there was a beautiful courtyard outside, covering the expanse between the few massive buildings that made up Seiya Corp. The burst of green reminded her of how she spent most of her afternoons, watching Yamcha during baseball practice, sometimes while reading a book. Rain or shine she would wait for him, and watch him play. She considered that to be one of her most dedicated practices, as his girlfriend. She may not have gone to all his games, or she may not have always been available every weekend for them to go out on a date, but every school day she would wait for him there, sometimes only parting with a wave goodbye and no other acknowledgment of her presence. Bulma suddenly realized that there was never that sort of dedication, even halfheartedly, from Yamcha. Sure, he would always wish her luck on her exams, which she took only so that she would be able to graduate in the same year as him, but he never went out of his way to establish that sort of rapport with her like she had struggled to maintain with him, day after day, even if she had something else to do. The blinding green struck her eyes sharply and she flinched a bit, a heavy, tugging sadness suddenly flooding her chest.

Goku looked over at his counterpart, her eyes worrisome. "You okay, Bulma?"

She snapped out of her reverie and looked at him sheepishly. "Sorry, I don't know what's been going on with me lately. My mind has these odd tangents and I get stuck on something. Just one thing, I keep thinking about it, and mulling it over and over in my head until it gets to a point where it just never ceases to depress me, no matter what the beginning thought was."

He nodded, putting his hands in his pockets and adjusting his stance a bit so he could stand closer to her. "I get that sometimes, too. It's a sort of negative cycle that your mind gets trapped in."

Bulma nodded as well, looking down in slight embarrassment. _'Why did I have to say it like that to him?'_ At that moment, she decided that she would have to establish a sort of filter in her mind for what she would consider work appropriate. First with asking Vegeta his age, and now this? It was like her brain was setting her up to sabotage herself. Not to say that she and her brain were disconnected in any way, but at that moment she wondered if maybe that was what was going on. Crossing wires. She was very grateful he was being kind to her, though. There were a lot of things he could have said that would have pointed out her strangeness but he somehow avoided it. Did he do that on purpose, or was the nicest thing he could possibly say the only thing that happened to pop up in his mind? She looked over at Goku, and he had a super serious look on his face, catching her off guard.

"Maybe you need some vitamins or something."

"HA!" She snorted, then covered her face. _I can't believe I laughed like that._ Goku was such a funny guy, she couldn't help but laugh. She felt like she had known him for a long time even though they had only met a couple times. It was an odd feeling that she hadn't experienced before. It was completely unromantic, which wasn't what she had figured she would be feeling if she could say she felt like she had known someone forever, but she was all right with that. Unfamiliar, but pleasant. He smiled at her, glad to have brought her out of her funk, and she smiled back. "I think I'll be okay."

"Must be psychological or something," He said, leading the way back out of the cafeteria with no explanation. Everything in the room was pretty self-explanatory anyway, so she didn't feel like she was missing out on any vital information.

"No, Goku, it _must_ be related to food. That _has_ to be it." Her sarcastic tongue didn't escape Goku's perception as he grinned in spite of himself.

"Man, how did you know I love food?"

"It was the comment about vitamins. I can picture you using that as an excuse to eat any day!" She giggled.

"Aw, man." Leading the way out the door, they stood waiting for the elevator and he straightened up for a moment in realization.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. Pretty much everyone takes their break upstairs in the break room, for right now. Everyone who was just in the cafeteria has a different schedule than ours." He pushed the elevator button again impatiently. "They can't have everyone taking the same lunch otherwise the place would be swamped with people. So they're the unfortunate ones who have an early lunch. We rotate that spot every once in a while so that it isn't unfair on one particular department. There's a lounge upstairs by the little kitchen in our break room on our floor so it's okay to spend your break there, just don't stay at your desk. Someone passes by and sees you're not doing work..."

"Yeah, that's understandable. Cool."

They stood waiting for the elevator for a while, neither saying a word. It became a mutual understanding that the elevator was taking too long, so neither of them took the initiative to say anything about it.

"How long have you been working here?" Bulma asked.

He thought for a moment. "About two years. I remember it was around when Vegeta became supervisor of our department."

"Oh, so he's been here since before then?"

"Yeah. Vegeta's been here forever. He's like part of the woodwork. It's scary."

Bulma laughed. That made her wonder, again, just how old was that guy?

Goku continued. "He hasn't always been in our department, of course, he used to work up on the 49th floor with the bigwigs, but now he's with us."

"Oh, so he..." She decided to end her sentence right there. She didn't want to make any suggestions and have them turn out to be untrue, only for Vegeta to hear about what she said. Not that she didn't trust Goku, she just wanted to be careful. Her brain filter was now in action.

"No, no, nothing like that. From what I heard, Vegeta chose to come work in our department. He wasn't demoted or anything." He stretched his arms a bit, reaching them up high above his head then swinging them back down.

"Why would you do that, though? If you've worked so hard to get yourself into a top position, why would you throw that all away and work in a lower-branch department?" Bulma's reasoning was spot-on, she knew it was, but there was some unknown motivation on Vegeta's part that she was quickly becoming very curious about uncovering.

"It's a mystery, I guess. We haven't really talked about it. Maybe you could ask him? I'm not responsible for what happens after, though."

"Ha ha. I'll be sure to keep that to myself, then. That's one question I _won't_ ask."

The ding sounded, and the elevator finally arrived, again with people rushing out towards the exit. She and Goku had the whole elevator to themselves, and this time the mirrors seemed open and inviting. She was starting to get all prickly in her stomach, like she often felt when she rode elevators.

"So, how long have you and Chichi been friends?" He asked suddenly.

Bulma was confused for a moment. How did he know they were friends? She thought for a moment then remembered when he first took her up to the office she had told him that Chichi had gotten her the interview there. "Oh! Since high school, I think. Ninth grade. We hit it off right away, and we're still great friends. So, you guys have been working together since... Probably since you got the job here, right?"

"That's right. I remember her from the very beginning."

"So what are your impressions of her? Since I'm her friend I guess I only know her... innate personality? Is that what you'd call it? I'm just curious about what sort of image she projects for her professional personality."

Goku was quiet for a moment, and when she looked at him he seemed lost in thought.

"Do you guys talk often, or...?" Bulma probed. She noticed he was starting to get a little fidgety.

He scratched his head. "Well, no, not really. I mean... Since I started working here, we haven't really talked. It's weird because I've talked with everyone else in the office, but I haven't spoken a word to her. I mean, we are aware of one another, of course, but we haven't talked."

Bulma snickered. "So, she keeps her tough personality at work, as well?"

"Oh, definitely. She's very headstrong. We haven't talked but I get these really strong vibes about her personality and how she is. I've seen enough interactions between her and Vegeta to know that she's not afraid of anything."

Bulma nodded, feeling a vicarious form of pride bringing her mood up a bit. She really admired Chichi's strength, so she was glad that she was able to display that side of her in the workplace also without being too overbearing. Or perhaps she was, and Goku just didn't want to tell her that? Smart move.

The doors opened, and they headed straight for the break room. As they were walking towards the back, they could see Vegeta in his office, and he beckoned her inside. She sighed. _Great._

Goku laughed, almost in ridicule, but Bulma didn't take it in a malicious way. "That sucks. So it's back to the dungeon, huh?"

Bulma nodded. "I guess. I'll get out alive, though, don't worry." Looking at Vegeta glowering at her on the other side of the glass, she was hoping she hadn't spoken too soon.

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><p>AN: This is a short little chapter, isn't it? Thanks for reading. Please review! :)


	9. Control

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: FINALLY! No, I haven't given up on this story. I've been thinking about it lately and I've been intimidated by my own ideas and how to write them well enough to do justice to the story I have in my mind, but I've figured that there's really no harm in trying, right?

I also want to thank **preciousjade **for her support. She sent me an e-mail a couple weeks ago asking me about the story and wondering if I'd ever update it. That made me think, wow, there are actually people waiting for me to update, so I decided to go back, revise the whole thing, and add some chapters that I've had written for a while but never posted. So, thank you for motivating me to get this done!

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Too Close For Comfort<strong>

**Chapter 8 - Control**

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><p>The view from Vegeta's office was really quite spectacular. His office was lined with impressive floor-length windows showing a perfect panoramic of West City. Seiya Corp was situated in the heart of downtown in the financial district, and while they had an awesome view, being on the 26th floor hampered one of Bulma's favorite things to do, people-watch. From this high, people were not quite like little ants just yet, but still too small to do much observing. She wondered how he kept from just standing and looking out all day long, but since she had been working for a whopping hour and a half, for all she knew that was exactly what he did.<p>

He had ordered her in his office in the first place, but she barely had time to sit down before his phone started ringing. He had given the phone a look, as if willing it to stop, and when she had smiled a bit in spite of herself he shot her a glare and picked up the phone after a few rings, keeping eye contact with her until she felt compelled to look away. Vegeta hadn't necessarily wanted to pick up the phone, he knew who it was and what they were calling about, but it'd be a lie to say he wasn't secretly looking forward to the call just to tie up a loose end in his mind. One less thing to worry about was good news for him.

"Speak." Bulma kept a snort to herself as she heard his gruff greeting.

"You heard about the meeting, right?" A voice growled out, exactly who he expected.

"Yes, Nappa, I was told." She watched him as he picked up a pen and began carefully twirling it around his thumb.

"You know how she is sometimes..." The voice continued on.

His face lit up with a smirk as he continued listening. Bulma assumed that it wouldn't be a long call otherwise he would have asked her to leave, as that was what would be considered polite, but yet again she could never be sure. She had a lot to learn about Vegeta, and it was a bad start to already be making assumptions.

"Friday night, then. Fine." She watched him rub his forehead for a moment and listen for about ten more seconds before hanging up abruptly, or it seemed so to her. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to her.

She noticed that he had relaxed a little bit, yet it seemed that he permanently had a frown fixed to his face, varying in intensity depending upon the situation. She liked to think that she always had a smile fixed on her face and a cheery disposition, but smiles wouldn't help her now. Some people say that when you smile at someone it naturally compels them to smile back, yet it seemed that Vegeta was an exception. The familiar nervousness from before returned, giving her that sinking feeling yet again. It was nice being able to just sit with him in silence for a while, but she figured she had to work up to it and then it would become comfortable again. Her smile wilted a bit under his continuous attention, looking her right in the eyes without breaking, but she was determined to keep on smiling, deciding that she wouldn't let him control her in any way. Yet another sign of a bad start... Saying that you wouldn't let your boss control you seemed counterproductive even to her.

Bulma's smile, however pretty, did nothing but confuse Vegeta more. He wasn't convinced. Beautiful (yet probably fake) smile or not, this was supposed to be Bulma Breifs, daughter of one of the most intelligent and innovative scientists of their time! How many college degrees did this woman have, five? Well, maybe not five, he wasn't sure, but probably two or more, and here she was sitting primly and properly in his office looking for a job so she could sit on her ass and shuffle through what any intelligent person would consider to be mere busywork. His mind was still a little bit fuzzy regarding the details of why she was looking for a job when she had all the money in the world and everything she could ever want. Just wait until this broke to the press, '_Capsule Corporation heiress does menial labor for mid-range salary!' _It was the perfect caption for a candid photo of the Breifs woman doing what, with her money, she could hire 1,000 people to do – making copies. It sounded so damn good in his mind, he made note to file that one away to use as a threat against her later, and he wasn't sure if he'd be joking or not.

Why work in an office when you had such a sure thing going? Her answer from before was that she didn't want to rely on anyone anymore, and as much as he hated to be able to relate to that himself with his own life experiences, with such technical genius he would have thought she would come up with a better answer than that. What was he supposed to do, feel bad for her? Trapped like a princess in a world that didn't understand her, itching to break out of the mold and make her own way, blah blah blah, he had heard a thousand iterations of it all before in some Disney movie somewhere. He knew innately that there was another reason, but he couldn't be too proud of that revelation when anyone with half a brain could see it. Frankly, he didn't know why he cared so much on a surface level, but he knew it would become very relevant later, and if he didn't try to flesh it out now it could come back and bite him in the ass. He knew he was looking at his new assistant, over-qualified as she was in pure business experience yet lacking in pure office skill. Who was he kidding, like you even needed office experience to make coffee, but apparently that was a problem for some people since Nancy couldn't seem to make a decent cup.

Nancy... What a joke. His new assistant would for sure confuse his little underlings, but he wasn't ready to throw her out to the dogs just yet. There were a few things he still needed to know before he started jumping for joy at how perfect she was for his current plans. She had just fallen into his lap, thanks to the ever-annoying Chichi, who, he reminded himself, he needed to schedule a very important meeting with, and not just about the blue-haired woman in front of him.

Bulma finally broke the silence, the sinking feeling in her stomach turning into that of one on a rollercoaster ride. "Thank you for asking Goku to take me along and show me around. It was helpful." She hated when she couldn't tell what other people were thinking, and Vegeta was one of the most difficult to read she had ever encountered.

Vegeta made an impatient sound and Bulma couldn't help but narrow her eyes a bit. "You can stop it with the small talk, it's hardly necessary."

She was a bit taken aback, as she could tell she had interrupted him mid-thought and he was visibly annoyed, but was there really a need to be so snippy? It was still morning, after all... Her smile returned with full-force. "Isn't it? This is a workplace. If people are going to be around each other for a good chunk of their day I would think it makes sense for them to try and be pleasant with one another." She only dimly regretted that she did not have the self control to bite back her reply once she saw the mildly surprised look on his face.

Bulma was beginning to feel like she was being interrogated as she was subjected to yet another long look. From that, she could finally gather with certainty that he was _definitely_ trying to make her uncomfortable. This knowledge only fueled her desire for a challenge. He would not play silly games with her. Those tactics might work on foolish interns, but not on Ms. Bulma Breifs! Let him try... She steeled her stomach and willed the discomfort away, which seemed to work.

After a pause that seemed much longer than it actually was, he spoke. "Maybe others feel that way, but my first priority is business, and I very much have business with you."

Ignoring his slightly threatening tone, Bulma continued on the track to a normal conversation. "Wonderful. You told me before that you would inform me as to what exactly I would be doing in the office?" She said with genuine curiosity.

"I did." Vegeta leaned back in his chair, undoing one of the buttons on his suit jacket, surveying her.

Being the seasonally appropriate fashionista that she was, Bulma couldn't help but wonder if his suit wasn't a little hot for summertime. Usually men wore suits with a lighter fabric, and even took off their suit jackets once they arrived in the comfort of their own office, but she had never seen him take it off. She yet again chided herself for jumping to conclusions. She tried to reply with as much interest as possible, "And?"

Vegeta interpreted her interest as being a little too eager and paused for effect. She was getting a little sick of his games. "A position has just recently opened up that many would consider to be highly favorable." He let slip the smallest of sneers. "I am in need of an assistant."

Bulma suddenly felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Of all things, why his assistant! After she had already signed and agreed to everything... Vegeta was a tricky bastard indeed, Chichi wasn't kidding! Bulma knew she was smarter than that. She had read through everything, but her mistake was she assumed that she would be doing what Chichi was doing, since most people in an office did the same thing, right? Her lack of friends working in an actual office to tell her otherwise suddenly became very apparent to her. No way did she want to spend the majority of her days during the week waiting on the hand and foot of the ridiculous bastard in front of her. _You must really think you're the shit, don't you? _What made him think that she was so above running out the door right in that second?

Unfortunately, the fact was, he had guessed correctly. Too prideful to show her surprise, Bulma kept her face stoic as her mind raced.

Would she be able to find another job in time to be able to pay for her apartment without assistance from her parents? Unlikely, as Bulma had no savings to speak of. Before, any time she ever needed something, she'd just ask mom or dad and they'd buy it. They gave her spending money, credit cards, everything, and she had never even had the thought to save what she knew was limitless, which still was, but she had no desire to take advantage of it any longer. Would she go back home and give up? Hardly. She had yet to tell her parents that she was moving out, and she realized that talk was long overdue. She greatly enjoyed her new freedom, yet it was times like this when she was really starting to feel hopeless and stuck, as the last question plagued her mind...

Would she be able to put up with this guy for a regular paycheck?

She looked him over. He was just a man. He was petty, yet he oozed power and control. How could that be? What does he do, oversee an office? Some bigshot. She could control a man. She would have to make clear to him that she was aware of his silly antics and she was above his efforts to try and intimidate her, successful as they may be. She would also have to make clear that she did not intend to do anything ridiculous or demeaning. No house-calls. Bulma would demand respect and fairness. She knew what she deserved, and if she couldn't get it, she would tell him to forget it. Truth was she was hardly in a position to be turning down anything, but that wouldn't stop her from getting what she wanted.

Bulma had a strong desire to figure Vegeta out. Why was he being so rude to her? It seemed all he ever did was play games with people and try and exert his control over them. She felt compelled to confront him about it, but felt that not only would that threaten the security of her position, but he probably wouldn't give her a straight answer. Maybe Chichi knew. She would have to hope that once he got to know her better, he would maybe even start to like her and be a little nicer to her, since she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to put up with his dismissive behavior. He said he wanted to hire her, but she couldn't see any indication that he wanted her around except for him putting up with her filling out paperwork on his desk earlier that morning and just straight-out telling her he wanted her for the job. She hadn't intended for her actions to be annoying, and it mustn't have come off that way to Vegeta, either, since he had tolerated it, but what did that really mean?

She looked absolutely pensive. Vegeta could tell she was thinking it over by the way her lips were pursed, weighing the pros and cons in her mind. He'd have to be pretty sickeningly arrogant in order to not only ask her to be his assistant when she wasn't fawning over him like the last six dolts he contracted, but to do it after he had treated her like she was a plaything that he took pleasure in making as uncomfortable as possible... He wouldn't even try to deny it.

"You really weren't kidding when you said you wanted to scare me off." She said with a challenging smirk. Not how he expected her to reply, but he was somehow pleased.

Vegeta leaned forward in his chair. She had his attention. "Do I scare you?"

"Not as much as you'd like to think that you do."

"Oh really?" He smirked at her right on back.

"Let's be serious for a moment, and-"

"Aren't we being serious?" He relished in her obvious irritation at being interrupted by him.

"I only mean that we should get to the point. Not to sound over-confident, but for a person as smart as you know I must be, due to how impressed you were by my work credentials, don't you think that you're under-utilizing my abilities by just having me answer calls for you and run errands?" Bulma tried her best to speak objectively and not seem too much like... herself. Pushy Bulma was good, but she needed to tone it down in order for the difficult man sitting across from her to really listen to her.

"No." He replied quickly, unfazed. "If anything I think you're more qualified to be working for me directly when I could hire anyone else to just write reports."

Bulma couldn't hide her surprise. In his own strange way, the man in front of her was complimenting her.

Vegeta weighed his words carefully. "There have been many before you who have failed to do exactly what I ask them to. If you think you're so intelligent, you'll be able to comprehend my instructions and correctly infer what I want."

Bulma didn't know what to think. Was he challenging her? It wouldn't be the first time, but she couldn't judge much by his tone or his facial expression. Might as well go all out. "I doubt I will fail to do so. "

"I won't ask of you anything more than what I think you're capable of." It tortured her how ambiguous he was being.

"Which is?"

"Anything I ask you to do." The look on his face was starting to drive her a little nuts. God, he was really asking for it. She really must be stupid for even considering this, but what were her options...?

"In a professional, reasonable fashion?"

"Is this not a professional, reasonable environment?"

"It would be if you weren't trying your hardest to intimidate everyone who walks through this door." She said. His resulting dark chuckle was not what she was expecting, just as much as she wasn't expecting those words to come out of her own mouth.

"That's not a wise thing to say to someone you don't know very well." Vegeta couldn't help the sharp retort. He could tell that his comment disquieted her as she sat back a bit, letting slip a short look that did not contribute to her own desired effect of looking so self assured. She was beginning to try his patience, yet he had gotten into this knowing that such a conversation might occur. He couldn't allow her to realize how much he wanted her to be his assistant, especially after everything she had said to him, yet he could tell he was losing her, and he couldn't let that happen. They were closer in personality than either of them wanted to admit, and he could tell that between the two of them, he was the only one who had caught on to it. His plans for her were starting to become even more apparent the more they spoke to each other.

Bulma had been completely caught off guard. She had really done it now. What should she say? "I- "

"Perhaps you will feel better knowing that my assistant not only conducts interviews, but acts as head of the office in the event I am not present?" '_Didn't before, but does now...'_ He thought to himself.

"She does?"

He only nodded.

She had no idea what to make of it. One second he was biting her head off and the next he was telling her how much more responsibility he was giving her. Her only conclusion was that in her accepting his challenge he had decided to give her more to do, but why?

"Is that good enough for Bulma Breifs?" He smirked. She looked at him with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Few things are." She said with an air of false haughtiness, sitting up pin-straight for a moment. His smirk disappeared, but Bulma smiled. Vegeta was looking at Bulma's first genuine smile since she had met him. As he watched her slowly break into an undeniably cute grin he could feel it get him right in the chest, and try as he might he couldn't shake it off, and he couldn't break eye contact with her. Damn that woman! Who did she think she was smiling at him like that?

He got up out of his chair and walked up to her until he was standing right in front of her. She opened her mouth in surprise, an unspoken question on her lips. He reached out his hand, waiting for her to shake it in agreement. She wasn't sure how much pride it took for him to do that, but she willingly attempted to crush it with delight as she pushed his hand down, in mimicry of her foiled attempt to shake his hand the day before. His brow furrowed deeper for a moment before he adjusted his jacket, as if ruffled.

"First rule." He started, watching as she looked up at him with a look of barely contained mirth that, for some reason, didn't irritate him. "Only I'm allowed to do that."

Bulma smoothed out her skirt and stood up gracefully in front of him. She was shorter today, he noticed. The miracles of platform shoes. She reached out her hand, took Vegeta's and shook it. The perfect, businesslike firm handshake. She looked him right in the eye and smiled again, and he smirked back at her. Yet another handshake that almost hurt, and she knew her hand would feel tingly after. In that moment with Vegeta looking right at her, even with a haughty smirk on his face, she took in his features and noticed for the first time that he wasn't a bad looking guy.

Not bad at all.

Her fingers were so delicate encased in his hand that he could easily have crushed them. He hadn't ever had a thought like that before, and he thought it to be quite strange. He could crush her, but she wouldn't go down without a fight. There was a slight flicker in her smile and while confused for a moment he figured out what she must be thinking. _Why are his hands rough and calloused? _He thought about the potential conversation were she to ever ask him that, and he knew she had too much decorum to even go down that road.

Vegeta was not pleased when he turned to see half his employees crowded around the office window.

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><p>"Oh God, Vegeta must have had an absolute fit!"<p>

"Something like that. Once he looked out half of them just ran away, and the other half were scared off when he stuck his head out the door and yelled something about paid days off for injury in the workplace and wondering if any of them wanted to take their chances with it..."

"Ouch. I've heard that one before."

Bulma giggled. Nothing was better than girl talk over ice cream. In person would have been better, but Bulma didn't get back until late and they thought it would be more convenient to dish over the phone. For all she knew Chichi wasn't even eating ice cream. Bulma knew she shouldn't be eating it either but after a first day that was decidedly not bad she thought she'd treat herself.

"And you know what? He came right back in, leaned against his desk and started asking me about _school_."

"School? What about school?"

Bulma spooned down her ice cream and started stirring it around absentmindedly. "Like, what I studied, where I went. He was pretty surprised when I told him I had my first college degree at sixteen and it didn't take me much longer to get my next one."

"That's odd that he'd want to even ask you about it, isn't it on your resume?"

"Yeah, but I think he was interested in knowing what in particular I studied with my majors. Really I think my aeronautical engineering degree was just for fun, but he wanted to know like what theories, everything! Then he asked about my work at Capsule Corp and I told him as much as I could without revealing company secrets, just general outlines of what I did every day... I'm not sure he understood it but I'm sure as a result of all of his questioning, he's gathered that he is seriously underpaying me for how much of a genius I am."

"Weird... Vegeta's not one for talking too much, I'm surprised he was even curious." Chichi said a bit anxiously.

"I know he isn't, he made sure to tell me that very early on, like I'd make the mistake of thinking that he wanted to hear what I have to say." She rolled her eyes. "When it came to the specifics of my studies I think he accidentally let himself sound a little too interested. Here I thought he was an impenetrable wall of stone who didn't care about any personal details. Maybe you've misrepresented him, Chichi." Bulma added teasingly.

"Perhaps I have..." Chichi's tone was a little too resigned for Bulma's taste.

"Chichi, are you sure you're okay? I know you said earlier that everything is fine and Vegeta's even supposed to be promoting you for some odd reason but it doesn't sound like everything's fine. He really rattled you, huh?"

Bulma's heart clenched hearing Chichi's sigh on the other end. She felt like her friend worried far more than what was healthy. "You could say that. He has yet to tell me when he's meeting with me, I'm guessing it will be first thing tomorrow." Starting to feel uncomfortable thinking about it, Chichi was glad when Bulma quickly changed the subject.

"Anyway, after that super fun interrogation, he left it to Goku to teach me the phone system and how to transfer and hold and all of that. You know Goku, right?"

"Of course I do. We've worked together for a while, now. I don't remember when he first started or if I started first. He's a nice guy I guess. Kind of quiet."

"Goku, quiet? Oh gosh, you must not have talked much with him. He never shuts up! He's hilarious." Bulma couldn't believe that her friend could even think of putting the words "Goku" and "quiet" in the same sentence.

"Really? Wow, I never would have expected that. He shuts up like a clam around me. Maybe he likes you, Bulma, you are the cute new girl in the office." Chichi giggled.

"Pff, oh, stop. That wouldn't ever happen, he's too fun as an office friend I can make fun of Vegeta with."

"Oh yeah, they're related, right?"

Bulma just about spat out her ice cream all over her new couch. "What? He never said that. Who told you that? That's wild! Wow, listen to me, I sound like the office gossip already." Bulma was in a state of shock. There was no way her new office friend was anything like Vegeta, let alone related to him. Except, now that she thought about it, their hair was similar in color, as were their eyes, but that normally wasn't an obvious indication of relation.

"Oh believe me, you wouldn't even be among the worst of those gossip hounds, you haven't heard anything yet. Yeah, I heard that a long time ago. I haven't ever confirmed it with either of them but I don't find it too hard to believe. They're supposed to be cousins or something, from what I've heard."

"That's so crazy. It kind of makes sense if you look at them but... Wow. I never expected that. Their attitudes are so different!"

"Are they? Indulge me, I don't know Goku very well."

"Well, you know how Vegeta stares so hard right at you? Sometimes his glares are outright... Disdainful. Like he wants you to _die_." Bulma shivered a bit thinking about it.

"Like he's willing it to happen?"

"Totally! Goku never looks at you like that. He's always happy and just the complete opposite of Vegeta."

"Bulma, you know that two people can be related yet at the same time completely different, right? That's how it is. Cousins aren't super close. Brothers and it would be much harder to believe, but it's not like two brothers can't be polar opposites or anything."

"Well, that's true..."

"Yeah, see? I didn't get two degrees in science stuff but I'm smart too!" Chichi said playfully.

"I know, smart girl. Listen, I'm going to get to bed pretty soon here. I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning in the lair of the demon, ok?"

"Sounds good, good night!"

"Nite." Bulma quickly snapped her phone shut, slowly reopening it again realizing she had one more important call to make tonight, and it couldn't wait any longer.

Time to finally let her parents know that she wasn't coming back as soon as they thought...

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading. Please review, I want to hear what you guys think. The next few chapters are full of explanations, and they're worth the wait. It's been suspenseful so far, but I understand if it's turned off a few of you, but I do know where I'm going with this and things will be made clear. The next chapter should be popping up sometime soon!


	10. Mystery

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: A nice long chapter for you guys! Chichi is becoming a major player in the story, it seems like I've had more scenes of Chichi and Vegeta rather than Bulma and Vegeta! There will of course be more B/V later, but I've got to solidify Chichi's position first. I'm really enjoying writing her character since her and Bulma are very similar, but I think Chichi can be even stronger because she's not as vain and not as self-controlled as Bulma. Sorry if there's been too much introspection, I really want to flesh out these characters and explain their motivations for things as things become more plot driven.

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><p><strong>Too Close for Comfort<strong>

**Chapter 9 - Mystery**

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><p>Vegeta tossed and turned, sleep eluding him yet again. He was tortured by a transient dream, feeling engrossed when he managed to stay unconscious long enough to experience it, yet forgetting it immediately every time he awoke. Each time he became alert he felt the need to go back to sleep, thinking maybe, after one more time, he'd finally be able to remember it, then he'd wake again, feeling tricked, and becoming frustrated as it slipped away once more.<p>

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><p>Bulma awoke early in the morning with a sick feeling in her stomach. Her conversation with her parents the night before had gone less than stellar. She had been expecting a pretty monumental meltdown by her mother, but the meltdown ended up coming from her father. He had demanded she return home immediately and begin working at Capsule Corp full time rather than a come-in-when-she-felt-like-it sort of schedule, and when she had refused, the results had not been pretty. His threats to cut her off were met with a resigned indifference on her part, since she had used a minimal amount of money just by moving out and putting down a deposit on her apartment, but he had said it with a finality that left her feeling absolutely terrible. <em>How could you do this to us? After all that we have done for you? Your genius is going to waste. We need your help.<em> Most of the things he had told her in his attempt to knock some sense into her were very true, aside from the "we need your help" part. There were plenty of other capable (yet in her opinion, overpaid) minds on the Capsule Corp staff that were likely all too willing to step in and take over where she left off. She had unknowingly made sure of that due to the impossibly high standards she set for the lucky few she deemed intelligent enough to hire for her father's company.

The main reason her father had taken it much harder than her mother was because she hadn't told him the full story. Only her mom knew what the catalyst was for her big decision to move on and move out; her argument with Yaumcha. She explained that it really woke her up as to how much she was taking her life for granted, how easy she had let things come to her. In a surprising and unexpected moment of clarity on her mother's part, she told Bulma that she couldn't let the ideas Yaumcha put into her head sway her decisions to the point she had let them. Bulma liked to think that it was mainly her own decision, but her mother's assertion that it was purely Yaumcha's challenge that guided her hit a little too close to home. Sure, she had thought about that herself, and simply reinforced that it was her own decision by doing everything independently from that point on, but from her mother's viewpoint, that was exactly the reason it _wasn't_ completely her decision. _I know my daughter. When she's challenged and wants to prove somebody wrong, no matter who or what it is, she'll do it. _Bulma hadn't expected to hear those words from her and it made her feel even more horrible.

What if she was making one big mistake and everything was just a misunderstanding? That Yaumcha was really blowing off steam and his words meant nothing? Regardless of whether she went back home or stayed on her own, she knew for certain that she and Yaumcha were absolutely and irrevocably _over_, and there was little that could change that, yet she couldn't deny that by letting him get so close to her heart she allowed him to say the words that would hurt her the most, therefore guiding her into making one of the biggest decisions of her life. Her father maintained that she would come crawling back home when she was sick of the world and wanting to return to the shelter under their protective wing. Not if she could help it!

Yaumcha had attempted to contact her several times since the whole mess began and she had ignored him. Her mother urged her to reconcile and realize what a silly mistake she was making, but Bulma was too stubborn to consider it. Due to the amount of break-ups and get-togethers they had, Bulma couldn't say they were stupid to think that she would change her mind when it came to Yaumcha. She didn't know if Yaumcha was still living at Capsule Corp under the delusion that she would eventually come back and everything would go back to normal. She wondered how long he would last before he finally got the picture and got out for good. He'd probably be living there until the day she died either just waiting for her or enjoying the luxury her parent's compound provided him, all three of them under the false impression that she was just having a "moment" that would pass. At least, until she could confront them after becoming a great success in the world they thought was too much for her. She was frustrated that she couldn't properly convey how much of a good change in her own life she was making, and even if it might not turn out to be permanent, it was completely altering the outlook she once had on life, something she once considered effortless and simple. Now from the outside she could see how beneficial these changes were, something her family could never see unless they were on the outside, too.

Bulma stretched and sat up in bed, realizing that she wasn't getting much more sleep. She was still a bit early, and she decided that what she needed was a nice breakfast and a jog outside. She fixed herself some eggs, threw some yoga clothes on and headed out into the crisp morning air, hoping that her brief bout of exercise would help to both clear her mind and invigorate her.

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><p>Chichi sat in Vegeta's office, thinking about the last time she was in that very chair and how frightened she had been she would lose her job. She was still confused as to why she was still here and what Vegeta had planned for her, even though she could venture a guess as to why. She was being promoted to what, exactly? She was already in charge of everyone out in the office, being the one that did the final revisions of reports, what more could Vegeta give her? Would he give her a raise? He had remained tight-lipped at the end of their last meeting, telling her they would hash it out the next time they saw each other, and here they were, glaring at each other with every last ounce of hatred left in their bodies. It had become a game for her, too, just like the game that he played with everyone in the office. Yeah, let them think Vegeta's signature awkward silence that left an empty pit in their stomachs was an accident. They were all puppets in his big show, and she was ready to blow it all open, and she was pretty sure that he would have to let her due to the huge influence she had on everyone in the department.<p>

Chichi couldn't place where her confidence had come from all of a sudden, but once Bulma had told her the night before that Vegeta had hired her as his _assistant _of all things, and that he had given her a bunch of new responsibilities, it solidified her suspicions that things were not what they seemed. What she had first seen as a fun investigation into the mysteries in her workplace had taken over everything in her life. When she was not at work, all she could think about was what had happened that day and what was strange about it, what she had read in this-and-such report that didn't seem right, what her coworker had said about something said to them, it became her. Vegeta's penetrating stare screamed to her the obvious. _You know too much._

Readjusting herself in her chair, Chichi could feel the regret for involving Bulma in this. Her friend deciding to move out of her house and start a new life had come at a perfect time. She was glad to help her friend out, but the whole affair had brought Chichi more insight into the company than she had thought possible. By telling Vegeta about her, they established a rapport of trust, like she knew he needed someone like her best friend, and by Vegeta accepting and putting her into such a position let Chichi know loud and clear that her previous suspicions regarding Seiya Corp had been one hundred percent correct. It was a smart move, in hindsight, but depending on what she heard from now on from Vegeta, she could only hope she couldn't regret bringing Bulma into this. The least she could do was warn her that Vegeta might try and jerk her around a bit and to not take any of his abuse, and Bulma told her she didn't intend to, and while that did provide her some relief, it wasn't enough to free her from guilt.

Vegeta looked at Chichi with a face he'd describe as fully accurate of how he felt about the woman. Annoyed, disgusted, full of a hatred that he could not quell, and (his least favorite part) respect. It had taken a lot of figurative balls to get herself into this position, and while she wasn't too graceful or subtle about it, feeling the need to constantly bother him, silently letting him know that he was under her "surveillance", she had gotten herself this far all by herself. She was determined to find out the truth, and he knew she wasn't ready for it. He wasn't about to tell her all of it, either, that would be stupid. Depending on her reaction from what he did end up telling her, he'd be able to gauge how she could handle it. For all he knew, she'd hear just one piece of the nasty puzzle she was so desperate to put together, turn tail and run out, never to be seen again. Perhaps over-dramatic, but wholly possible, judging by Chichi's past behavior that sometimes bordered on the hysterical.

He hadn't anticipated he'd be having this talk with her, or anyone, for that matter. He could have kept to himself for the rest of his life, or carried out what he needed to do by himself, but her intense curiosity and bothersome prying led him to the conclusion that maybe he could use a little help. Perhaps not hers, but someone he considered worthy enough. He was already in a way indebted to her for finding Bulma for him without even asking or giving her any indication that he would need someone like her.

They sat for a bit, just looking at one another. Vegeta was waiting for his coffee and Chichi was just waiting for him to say something, so they stayed silent.

A light knock sounded at the door and without looking Vegeta waved whoever it was to come in.

"Good morning, Vegeta. Hey, Chichi!" Bulma pushed the door open with her shoulder as she carried two piping hot cups of coffee, a bright smile on her face, gracefully walking in on her high heels. She really was going to have to get used to seeing Chichi every day at work, and it was already strange seeing her in Vegeta's office. She hadn't seen them talk, ever, and she knew they had a meeting this morning, so it was her full intent to get in and get out as soon as humanly possible so her friend could figure out exactly where she stood with their grumpy boss.

Vegetra looked up at her with what Bulma considered a strange expression, as if snapped out of deep thought. "Did you make it like I told you to?" He asked, very much resenting her chipper attitude so early in the morning.

"Yup!" She trilled. She put one mug down in front of Vegeta and another directly across from him for Chichi, even though there was no way for her to reach it without standing up and getting it. Better than giving her a mug that was too hot to hold, Bulma figured. Chichi fully understood the sentiment and stood up to get it. "Now, it's my first time making such a big batch of coffee, and Vegeta told me how, so if it's bad, blame him." That earned her a scowl from Vegeta but she could hardly care. He really needed to lighten up. She had tasted it and it was not bad, and she had followed his instructions completely.

Vegeta took a sip and frowned. Yes, she had made it exactly like he had told her to, which was exactly the way that Vegeta himself made coffee in the big hulking machine in the break room. The problem with this was that Vegeta was not great at making coffee in the first place so therefore he had inadvertently passed on his knowledge to her, making it so that he had basically just made himself coffee. He had fully planned to keep this tidbit to himself until Chichi ruined it.

"_Wow _ Vegeta, it's like you made it yourself..." The sarcasm was so thick he could just about feel it tangibly. In this moment, after thinking about it long and hard, Vegeta came to the conclusion that Chichi was a foul wench who ruined everything, may it be his coffee or his whole life at work.

Bulma was unsure how to react, looking back and forth between them, seeking approval. "So it's... good?" Chichi couldn't help but laugh. Bulma laughed too a little bit but she didn't know why.

"It's passable." Vegeta told her, looking at her with a smirk as he continued drinking it. He could already tell what Bulma was about to say with the indignant look on her face, but Chichi stopped her with a look before she let herself chew him a new one. Truthfully, he would have liked that. Then he could fire Bulma with her best friend watching. God, he was sick.

Chichi sighed after taking a sip. "Bulma, next time make it how you want to make it. This tastes like Vegeta's coffee. I know you can make better coffee than him, right?" She winked at her friend and avoided eye contact with the man himself, already knowing the look he was giving her.

"Aw, thanks, Chi! I'll get going." Bulma strode out as quickly as she had come in, not going far as her new office was right next to Vegeta's. If she just leaned her head up and to the right she could see everything going on in there, which she found to be a little strange. Hadn't Vegeta said something about blinds being installed?

Chichi clicked her tongue in irritation the second the door shut behind Bulma, her mood changing completely now that her friend wasn't around to hear her. "I can't believe you made her make coffee. Don't you usually make it anyway?" She asked, not at all innocently.

"I shouldn't have to explain myself to you."

Chichi crossed her arms. "Indulge me."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, continuing on in an attempt to lessen the anger of the petulant woman sitting across from him, as he had no desire to hear her screams."I only made it because Nancy sucked at it. The one before was bad, too. You're used to it now, but for the majority of the time we've worked together, I have not made the coffee."

"Hmm, you're right. It was good once, wasn't it? Couldn't have been you." She said with derision.

Vegeta couldn't stand to look at her. He instead focused on looking out the wall of windows at the city. There wasn't an ounce of jocularity in her voice now that Bulma had left. He was appalled that he had let her get this familiar with him and he had done nothing to stop it. She had forced her way in and he wanted her out desperately, but there was no turning back now.

Chichi knew there was an even larger scheme she was being left out of. She had assumed the day before that he intended to fire her for knowing too much, or interrogate her until there was nothing left but an empty shell, which must be what Seiya Corp must desire of their employees, considering the complete lack of information they gave them. Her gaze hardened at Vegeta's continued silence, yet at that very moment he broke it. He composed himself for a moment and began tentatively.

"Before I say anything to you, I just want to make something clear."

Chichi braced herself. "Go ahead."

Vegeta thought for a moment for exactly how he should put what he was about to say. He began to think that he was taking too long pondering it and decided to just skip the formalities. She had heard worse from him. Probably, anyway. "I just wanted to let you know that I hate you." He tried his best to sound sincere, and it wasn't as hard as he thought it was. Speaking from the heart was never his strong point, but when they were words like these, it always made everything easier. "With every fiber of my being. I cannot stand you, yet somehow I've allowed you to get here and fuck everything up."

Chichi bristled, looking him right in the eyes. She tried to detect any amount of sarcasm and she could sense none. She wasn't sure how to react. "I... I hate you too." She said, and while in a way she did hate him, she didn't mean it the same way Vegeta did.

"Okay. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Why did you feel the need to tell me that?"

"Did I hurt your feelings?"

Chichi could hardly suppress a snort at his attempt at condescension. "Hardly. Vegeta, I know you would most like to just keep playing games with me, but I think playtime is over."

Vegeta felt his irritation flare up for a moment but let it drop. She wanted him to get on with it, he would. The sooner she realized her fate the better.

"I told you that because I wanted to make clear to you that if I could choose anyone to tell what I am about to tell you, you would be the last person on my mind. It is due to your persistent meddling that you're even in this position, and while I think you must be absolutely _elated_ by your ingenuity, foolishly congratulating yourself on your success in getting totally and completely under my skin, I think you will regret your curiosity and involvement in what I am about to tell you for the rest of your life."

Chichi wasn't sure whether or not to take him seriously. "Aren't you being a little extreme? This can't possibly be-"

"Yes, it can, and it is." His tone of finality broke Chichi out of her skepticism. "You can either stay, and listen to what I am about to tell you, and agree to do everything I am going to tell you to do, whether you like it or not, whether you want to or not, or I am giving you the choice to go." He stopped to take another sip of his mediocre coffee, leaving Chichi hanging.

"What, go?" She panicked. "What do you mean _go?_" She could feel her voice rising a little bit.

"Please don't yell, I can take anything but your screeching." Vegeta said with equal vigor.

"You have no right to be rude to me! Aren't you trying to ask me to help you?" She yelled.

Vegeta couldn't help but close his eyes and rub his hand over his face in irritation. _What did I just say, damn it! _He had known that this would not be a fun conversation to have, but it was a very necessary one. He needed to know where she stood. There was no doing this halfway. Unlike what he had thought before, he realized that there was no point in telling her anything unless he knew she was completely one hundred percent on board with him, since anything he said could come back and bite him in the ass if she ended up refusing to do what he asked, or refusing the situation all together and denying everything he said.

Chichi's face softened as she watched him fuming behind his desk. They were being much too hard on each other. From what little he had said already, she already had an idea of what he was about to tell her and she knew it was very much a no-no for them to verbalize any of it, so cat-fighting would do them little good in this situation. As much as they had a mutual dislike for each other, Chichi understood that they were both moral people and they both wanted what was right... At least, she thought that Vegeta was a moral person. If he wasn't they wouldn't be talking right now.

She sighed. "Vegeta, I understand. Let's just be frank here, okay? I know how much you like to fight with me, but we have to stop. In your own special way, even though you hate me and I hate you, you are my friend, aren't you? " She said softly.

"Without my will or permission, you overly curious wench." He said without looking at her, suddenly finding something interesting outside the window. Chichi laughed a little at that.

"Okay. Now." Chichi looked down at her hands clenched in her lap and then back up. _Here goes nothing._ "I agree to everything. I want to know everything that you want to tell me, and I'll help you in any way that I can. I won't run away. I know more than you think I know." Vegeta did nothing but look at her until she broke eye contact and looked back down at her lap. "...I think I do..."

"You very well might."

Chichi only nodded.

Vegeta took a deep breath. "This..."

Chichi waited for what seemed like a long time, and just watched him think with his brows drawn tightly together. She could tell it was hard for him to continue, not emotionally, but just finding the right words. She respected him a little more in that moment, watching him fumble around with his words a bit.

He cleared his throat and began again. "This isn't what you think it is. We aren't who you think we are. And you aren't doing... What you think you're doing. Do you follow me?"

Chichi nodded silently, saying nothing.

"Just for the record, what is it that you think you're doing? Just so that we're on the same page. Everything, from the beginning." He asked.

"So, you want me to talk? I just want to make clear that I have your permission before you tell me to shut up..." Chichi said playfully, trying to lighten the mood that had become so serious.

Vegeta didn't feel like he should have to reply to that, so he only nodded.

Chichi took a deep breath. She already knew what she was going to say, as she had been waiting to say it for a long time. "When I first started working here, I was really happy. Right out of business school, getting to work for a top financial consulting company, or at least, that's what I thought this was... I thought I was pretty lucky. Few girls my age got to have that kind of opportunity."

I had thought I would be working in accounting or investing, as that was how the job was represented to me when I was hired for it, so when I got stuck in this department, I was pretty confused. You and I both know that I'm nothing more than some sort of copy editor. All I did was write reports, which had nothing to do with my major, but I was being paid very well, and I still am... It seems like I'm complaining about that, but now I see that it's some sort of hush money to keep everyone complacent with doing something that's really just useless. I know that this is essentially the PR department where we clean up everyone's mess, but I was frustrated that I, as an individual, didn't do anything. If things got too messy, I transferred it somewhere else, and if someone needed advice for investments, even though I was fully qualified to help with that, I didn't do that, either, Radditz did that, and now you do."

Vegeta nodded.

"Well, that wasn't what I expected to be doing at all, but at the time I figured it was necessary so I just dealt with it, hoping that I'd maybe move up and be able to work with something I found to be more interesting. If I ever had any problems, I knew I could talk to Radditz." Chichi felt a pang of sadness as she talked about it. "Radditz was always so nice to me... I think he knew that I understood but it wasn't something that was ever verbalized. He had this _unreal_ knack of investing money in companies that would suddenly skyrocket. It was beyond a hunch, beyond any sort of calculation. He could just feel it. That, along with the useless busywork I was being given, were the first indications that something was not right.

About a year and a half ago, I started paying more attention to the content of the reports I was writing. They're rehashes of information reported on people who work for the company and we sometimes attempt to cover things up, as I'm sure you know, but after we had our talk yesterday, I thought back and realized that some reports I had helped to edit before you came to this department had involved you. From what I remember, they contained silly stuff, mostly. One was about how you were out late at some club somewhere downtown, and I was thinking to myself, _what is the point of these? _It didn't make any sense. No one seemed to be asking, either, and still no one does because there is an unwritten rule that you don't talk about the content of the reports, you just write them and rewrite them, and no one will ask about them out of concern of jeopardizing their employment. It's ridiculous how we're all paid so well, even to do something I think could be individually handled by the employee involved.

I continued trying to figure it out, and then Radditz abruptly left, and was replaced by you. I don't know where he went in the company, or if he is still working for Seiya Corp. He just vanished. Ever since you became head of the department, the attitude of the whole office has changed. People didn't want to talk before, but now they're _scared _to. You can be a scary guy, Vegeta, and no one wants to-"

Chichi stopped as she felt a surge of anger watching Vegeta's lips slowly curl into a smirk.

"I know you must think it's _so funny _that your intimidation scheme is working, but the truth is, no one likes you like they liked Radditz! Everyone thinks you're an arrogant jerk who is lucky enough to actually be good at what he does so he doesn't get fired." She snapped.

She immediately felt a little embarrassed by her outburst, even though it felt pretty good to get out in the open, but the emotion dissipated once she saw that Vegeta's smirk hadn't faltered one bit.

"Do you like being hated?" Chichi inquired.

He shrugged. "I prefer it."

"Why would you prefer that? That doesn't make any sense."

He shook his head. "This isn't about me."

"Oh, but it is!" Vegeta's attitude was getting to her, and she felt annoyed for letting it. "I was supposed to have revenge on you and figure all of this out for myself since you've been so cruel to me, but now I've realized that I can't!"

"Of course you can't!" Vegeta laughed at her indignation. "No one can unless I tell them, and I've told no one."

"Tell me!" Chichi pleaded.

He shook his head. "I can't yet. Not until you tell me the whole story. There must be more that you know."

Chichi was quiet for a moment. "Well, there are things that have happened that I don't fully understand, but I know that they're important."

"Like?"

She sighed. "I don't know..."

Vegeta crossed his arms, getting impatient.

"Vegeta, I-" Chichi stopped herself, for reasons Vegeta couldn't fathom. She was fine before, why stop now?

"What?" He spat in irritation.

"I don't know how you can't understand what I'm feeling. I don't know if I should tell you more. What if they're just silly presumptions on my part?"

"If they were, do you think I'd even waste time talking to you?" He growled.

"I don't know..."

"Yes you do. Am I really trying to coax words out of you right now? This is getting ridiculous. Out with it, or _out." _

Chichi let a small noise escape indicating her surprise. "Come on! I don't know if I can trust you or not!" She whined.

He stared at her hard for a moment, then glanced out the window facing the office. "Let's assume you can't." He flicked his eyes back to her. "Take a chance."

She sighed. "This just sounds so sneaky of me..." Chichi let her eyes shift left, then right, readjusting herself in her seat. She started to feel a little afraid, even though she knew it was irrational. She felt as if someone could be listening in on their conversation.

"And here I thought you were so proud of yourself. What did you do?" Vegeta leaned forward in his chair, indicating that he was listening.

Chichi frowned, as if worried. "I managed to get a hold of one of the yearly fiscal reports of Seiya Corp."

"And? Anyone could get one of those." Vegeta's face was stony, yet to Chichi he seemed guarded.

"This wasn't an ordinary report. It was totally different than the kind you can get just anywhere. It seemed so ridiculous reading it at the time, I thought it was some kind of joke, but somehow it seemed to make sense. It was one that I wasn't supposed to see... That _no one_ is supposed to see, maybe not even you." Vegeta grit his teeth. _She couldn't have... _"It was sort of an accident, and I'm surprised that it was even put on paper, but... One day, around two months ago, I was coming in late to work, do you remember that day?"

"Like I keep track of your attendance record, get to the point."

"Well, Vegeta, that's kind of your_ job._" He rolled his eyes in response. "I was walking into the lobby, and these guys in uniforms were rolling out these huge boxes, all taped up. There was a truck outside, and I realized that we must hire some sort of contractor to shred or incinerate our documents, since we're a huge corporation and we must have a lot of sensitive material, and that's what these guys were doing. I was minding my own business, walking to the elevator, and as a cart rolled by me a sheet of paper fluttered to the ground, probably stuck underneath some box. I bent down and picked it up, and some instinct told me that I should keep it, so I folded it up and put it in my pocket."

Vegeta's eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. "You just _picked it up?_ You idiot!"

"What? They dropped it!" Chichi said in her defense.

"Don't you think someone saw you?" He ground out through his teeth. "Your stupidity knows no bounds!"

"Oh really? Well, there wasn't anyone around! The security guard wasn't paying attention..."

"You could really have just fucked yourself over, you know that, right?" Vegeta looked away angrily. _God, what a winner I picked to tell everything to..._

"Since when did you care? No one saw me, because if someone did, do you think I'd still be working here? Probably not." Chichi said straight-faced.

"That may be, but that was damn lucky of you. What did it say?"

"I didn't open it right there, I kept it until I got home, and when I opened it up, it said..." Chichi checked out towards the office one more time to make sure they weren't drawing any special attention. "It said that Seiya Corp's net worth was in the trillions of dollars." She said in a frightened tone. "Hell, there could have been even more zeros than that and I just didn't count them right. I thought it must have been a typo, and after I decided to tear that thing up and throw it in the trash, something occurred to me.

Those figures could have a possibility of being real. We've been doing so well in the stock market, it's almost like we're taking over everything. Every business seems to be going down but we're only going up, like we're eating them up. We're just gaining all of this financial power for not much reason. Of course, our net worth that's reported in the papers was nothing close to the amount I saw, yet I started thinking, _what if they're real? _What would that mean for the company? Where is all of this money coming from? As far as I knew we were just an investment firm, but this paper stated all other sorts of revenue that I couldn't have ever imagined that we were involved in. Apparently we're getting money from the government, a _ridiculous _amount of money, and I thought, _for what? _We don't do anything for them...

So, with all of this information, I was starting to piece together an answer, but I haven't made much headway since then, except for you hiring Bulma and that confirming that you needed help of some sort."

Vegeta snorted. "Help? What makes you think I didn't hire her just so I could have someone bring me coffee and do things I don't want to do?"

Chichi was in no mood for jokes. "Come on. She's perfect. She's an absolute genius. If there's anything you're stuck on, you know she can help you. Really it happened in a perfect way. What I had originally intended was for you to hire her, which I knew that you would-"

"Pff, and how could you possibly know that?"

Chichi continued as if he hadn't said anything. "-and Bulma and I would work together to piece things out by ourselves, but then I figured, if you were trying to get me to earn your trust, and there was something that you might need help with yourself, bringing her to you would be perfect."

"Hn. That's presumptuous of you."

She scoffed. "Hardly. You were always so suspicious of me keeping my eye on you, so I figured you must have had something to hide, and by you slowly allowing me to see more and more, you were trying to tell me something. Aside from this, however, I had an epiphany just last night that was perfect timing. The situation with Nancy really helped me to realize it. I thought you were an evil man for sending her up there. Once I learned that you in fact hadn't done it, and that it wasn't up to you, it made me feel like that instead of the enemy, you were my ally, and not as much as a jerk as I thought you were."

"Again, a little presumptuous..."

Chichi put her hand up. "Stop for a minute. Second, I did some research on Nancy, and she's a little famous herself. Her father is an engineer known for his work on the air propulsion system that makes our air-cars fly. Your assistant before that, Alexa, her father was an physicist. Four out of the past six assistants you've had have had a scientist of some sort as a relative.

Honestly, even though I've gotten this far, I'm unsure as to what it all means, but judging by the fact that I set you up for an interview with Bulma and you straight up hired her without any of the normal scrutiny you normally put our potential hires up to, and that you grilled her all about her schooling and wanted to know about all the theories she was familiar with, you need her for something. For what, I'm not sure, but regardless of whether I get your help or not, I'm going to figure this out."

Vegeta sat staring at her. He had already assumed that she knew at least this much, yet he felt pity for her that this was all that she knew. No one would put anyone they considered a friend in this situation if they knew the whole story, and Chichi had just unwittingly involved her best friend in an inextricable mess of a situation that even he didn't know what the proper solution would be, as of that moment. Yes, Bulma was the smartest one yet, and if anyone could help him, she could, but even though he had Bulma involved now, he was unsure if he could convince her to.

"I'll have you know that this is the longest I will ever let you talk ever again." He finally said.

"_Let me...?_" She narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. I'll also tell you that you will soon realize what a complete mess you have gotten you and your little friend into." He stood, walking in front of his desk, facing her. "This isn't just a little detective game anymore for you. When you walked in here, and I said I'd tell you what you wanted to know, you agreed that you'd do whatever I said, when I said, whether you wanted to or not." Chichi nodded slightly, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Well, first things first. My new assistant will not hear about any of this. We will keep it from her until I deem necessary."

Chichi was dumbfounded. "What? I can't do that!"

"That was fast..." He smirked.

She stood up too, matching his wide-legged stance and crossing her arms. "You're asking me to lie to my _best friend_! Of course I can't do that!" She said, incredulous.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, nostrils flaring. Chichi could tell he was entering his "dangerously angry" territory, and while she wanted to avoid that, she wished she could avoid the current situation entirely. Lie to Bulma? That wouldn't be right for her as a friend! Apparently, Vegeta had never had a best friend before, since he didn't seem to understand the basic trait of loyalty! She would die for Bulma, and she knew Bulma would do the same for her. _If I was Bulma, I would throw my coffee in his face right now and walk out._ After telling him everything, though, Chichi felt she couldn't just walk away. Even through his silence (for the most part) all throughout listening to her story, Vegeta had somewhat confirmed that her suspicions were valid, and that Seiya Corp was more than what it seemed. After that kind of affirmation, she was more eager than ever to finally figure out what was going on, but why were things so dire? Things weren't life and death, were they? They couldn't be! This was just some big money scheme, she was sure of it! A big deal, for sure, but not as big a deal as Vegeta was making it out to be, right?

"You can, and you will." He said quietly, in a tone of barely contained fury. "Or get out."

Chichi clenched her fists. _How dare he!_ "Fine then!"She marched toward the door and reached to open it, but stopped herself. She knew she was letting her emotions lead her far too much, but what was she supposed to do? This was the type of thing where "no" should be the definite answer, no matter what, but Vegeta, being the vile jerk that he was, was essentially threatening her with her job. A crappy, going-nowhere job for a company with questionable background that she was just itching to figure out, but it was not only her paycheck every week she would be walking away from, but also her pride. Vegeta would tell everyone he fired her, and everyone would think she was just some pompous girl who finally got her comeuppance for being the only one who could stand up to Vegeta. That thought alone made her a little sick.

She turned around and looked at him. He was still glaring daggers at her, the bastard. The implications of other things he might do remained unsaid, but she could think of quite a few things that would be disastrous. Firstly, if she were to leave, she would be leaving Bulma, and that was not an option. Would that be worse than lying to her? Another thing to worry about would be her future. Vegeta could ruin her life. This was her only job after being out of school, and she had no other job experience. He could spread rumors about her to all of the financial consulting firms in the city and make it so that no one would hire her ever again, unless she were to move somewhere else or work in a different field, but she knew with Vegeta's influence he could think of something to tell just the right people, making her so undesirable that she might not even be able to get hired flipping burgers. Even worse would be if he ratted her out to his own bosses, telling them all of the things she knew, and getting her into the sort of trouble she had difficulty comprehending. _Just what would they do to her? _

All of those things would be nothing to worry about if she had any doubt that Vegeta would want to destroy her after she rejected his trust and walked out on her job. _The real question is, would Vegeta be so vengeful as to really intend to do those things to me?_

_...Yes. Yes he would. _

She sighed dejectedly, letting her arms relax at her sides. Her spirit seemed to have left her..

"Vegeta..."

He raised one eyebrow expectantly.

"...I'm going to think about it, okay?" She said sadly.

Vegeta felt the strong desire to roll his eyes but didn't. _Pathetic. _He hadn't anticipated this reaction. With her earlier bravado he had anticipated little resistance, since he was offering her the knowledge she so desired, but he realized that he had expected too much from someone, as he often did. After all, all of this was probably too much for her mind in one day.

He turned away from her. "You do that."

Vegeta turned his head to watch her go through the door and walk out into the office where a few people had stopped to watch their confrontation. Ignoring them, Chichi stopped for a moment by Bulma's office, nudging her head in and saying something. She walked back to her desk soon after. After Chichi left her, his assistant leaned her head up and over, peering into his office, an inquisitive look on her face. Her expression quickly turned worried just watching him, and Vegeta realized he was standing stock still, very stiff, with his arms crossed. He quickly relaxed. She gave him a funny little smile, the kind you give someone when you're trying to cheer them up, and waved at him.

He scowled, a little confused by her acknowledgment of him, but he somehow understood the sentiment and gave a quick nod back, almost unnoticeable. She seemed to be satisfied by his response as she leaned back and smiled at him. He turned away and looked out his floor-length windows facing the city, closing his eyes for a moment.

_Well, that went well. _

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><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed that! This does explain a few things, but at the same time it adds even more mystery. I feel a little evil for writing this chapter. Some more things about Vegeta's situation will be explained next chapter. Hope you liked it.


	11. Drawn In

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

A/N: I'm on a roll, I'm actually ahead on writing! I finally fixed all of the layout problems with the previous chapters. Now I never have to look at them again! Haha.

I think you guys will really enjoy this chapter. I want to thank everyone for your reviews. They really are my motivation to keep writing, and I love to hear what you think, good and bad! Thank you so much!

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><p><strong>Too Close for Comfort<strong>

**Chapter 10 – Drawn In**

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><p>Vegeta abruptly awoke to the sound of a door slamming in the hallway of his complex. He sat up in bed quickly, trying to comprehend through his alarm and drowsy stupor whether the current situation was dire. He groggily realized that, no, the building was not on fire, and no, he wasn't being burglarized, yet as he collapsed back onto his bed and closed his eyes, he already knew that after that particular interruption he would be getting no more sleep that night.<p>

He groaned out loud to no one in particular. His muscles were twitching in excitement, ready for activity. He shook his head and kicked his legs out, willing it to go away. He was reminded of the other day when he and Kakarott, goofing off as usual in his office, somehow got to the subject of Vegeta's sleeping problems. When Vegeta had described the sensation of his entire body wanting to keep moving when all he wanted to do was sleep, Kakarott had said, "So... It's like, your whole body has Restless Leg Syndrome, so it's like Restless Body Syndrome!" Vegeta wanted to punch him for the stupid comparison, and for his lack of assistance in the matter, but really, what had he been expecting? He should have known better than to say anything at all.

After thinking about it a bit more, it became obvious what the root of the problem was, but it was something that he couldn't control, or rather, he no longer had the option to control it. They were making his injections far too close together and he was becoming, well, restless. He looked at his alarm clock, and he supposed that 4:52 AM was as good a time as any to rouse himself, as he was feeling wide awake, so he rolled out of bed and onto his feet.

At first his appointments were set at least two weeks apart in order to fully monitor the effects of the drug, but now he found himself coming in twice weekly for those foolish injections. He was glad that he no longer had to do full physicals over and over, and now all that was required of him was a weight check and a short questionnaire covering his well being.

He stretched his arms up and out after rubbing his eyes. He chuckled a bit to himself at how awake he really was, thinking about how it was funny in a way how all of this had gotten started and how amazing his progress felt at first, and how soon it was scheduled to all be over. He wasn't sure if he would miss it or not. The effects were supposed to be permanent, but that was still a point of debate.

Vegeta walked into the bathroom, flicking on the light, and looked in the mirror, examining his face closely. It was far better seeing himself looking healthy rather than beaten up, even if it had been only a few times. It was necessary as part of the study he was taking part in, but that was one aspect of it he wished he could do away with. He was familiar with fighting, both verbally and physically as he was a confrontational person, but when the intent was to get as beaten up as possible and test the limits of his body, he wanted it to stop. He desired a fair fight, one he could win. There was no winning in the open brawls the experiment necessitated. Some of those guys would be difficult to beat regardless of the circumstances, but now it was just impossible, and he hated it.

Vegeta had always been physically fit from the time he was a young boy, being involved in sports like karate, judo, and football. When he entered his 20's, he had avoided putting on any extra pounds by lifting weights and going running nearly every day, finding that it calmed him and allowed him to think about something else besides his stressful work life. Back then, he had always wanted to be the best, both at work and at the gym, and while he understood his past sentiment, he now realized that it was all for nothing. He saw now that no matter what path he might have ended up taking, it probably would have led to here.

After a few years of keeping his old workout regime, he could feel himself slipping, and he wasn't able to do what had been so easy to him before. He had reached a plateau, and it was all downhill from there. His lifts dropped and his running endurance dwindled. Frustrated, he struggled to push himself forward but found his efforts useless no matter how strong his motivation was. His feelings of disappointment in himself and desire to become what he considered "better" ultimately led him to taking part in the experiment a year and a half ago.

Through his father and his job at Seiya Corp, he came to know a man, Doctor, who had invented a new super-hormone called "SOS", originally concocted to sell to the military to buff up recruits, to enhance their strength and cognitive abilities. While they had the funds to retain hundreds of men to test the new formula on, Doctor preferred to first test the formula on men that he was already acquainted with, as he could assess the personality changes associated with the drug more effectively. This would require the participant's full consent, of course, and after seeing a few friends go through the process, Vegeta had decided he'd give it a shot.

To Doctor's disappointment, Vegeta hadn't turned into a cold hard killing machine, and while Vegeta had attributed the lack of change to the similarity of the desired end result to his own innate personality (he wasn't exactly winning awards for his congeniality), he had been glad that it hadn't changed him completely, as that had been the biggest risk. His initial trepidation of participating in the tests were the predicted emotional "adjustments", and even though he didn't have much, he enjoyed his feelings of humanity and morality, and was happy that S.O.S hadn't mucked with it.

Chichi had mentioned the funding from the military and expressed confusion in her findings, not being able to detect anything Seiya Corp might be doing that would earn such unprecedented revenue, and the experiment he was taking part in was only a small part of this. There was so much more for her to know, but judging by her reactions the day before, he was again unsure he would tell her. Only time could tell, and he came to the conclusion that if he did tell her anything, he would leave himself out of it, as she would label him as selfish and admonish him for putting himself in danger, and he didn't want to hear it. Least of all from _her_. Even so, that information was only the tip of the iceberg in regards to the secrets behind Seiya Corp, so he figured if it didn't effect the overall outcome there was no harm in leaving it out.

He reflected more upon the conversation he shared with Chichi the previous day. She had seemed so confident before, so sure. Vegeta had been convinced that she knew more, but it turned out for that not to be the case, and he felt foolish for letting himself get carried away. It must have been led by an innate desire of his to have someone else finally understand, someone he could talk to, but the idea had been flawed at its inception. Chichi was the wrong person to confide in simply _because _of her overzealous interest in Seiya Corp that he was sure was led by her own selfish desire for success and understanding, but now it was too late. He had let her in by allowing her to tell him what she knew, and now he was forced to somehow include her, but thinking about it now, what would he do with her? His new assistant would be far more useful, yet he doubted that Chichi would allow her friend's involvement were she not involved as well.

Perhaps he could let things happen organically. He could detect that Bulma was a smart woman and it wouldn't take long for her to figure out even more than her friend had managed to, and just judging by what little he knew of her character, he could easily imagine that she would choose to keep it to herself until she had all of the information she could possibly garner and then act upon it. Chichi was more emotional, and while Bulma seemed to be led by emotions herself, he thought her to be far more rational.

If Vegeta wanted anyone to be helping him, as much as he hated to admit that he needed any assistance, he wanted it to be Bulma. It was so easy to say it now before he really knew her, but he could see her clearly by his side, helping him work out the kinks in everything, innovating his entire approach to the complicated situation he was in, to some sort of conclusion that he couldn't yet place.

He had to get her to meet Doctor. He didn't know how he was going to do it, or how to arrange it to make it seem natural. Once they met, he was sure that would jump-start her brain and she would work her way up from there.

Vegeta was smart, but not as smart as he needed to be. In order to gain favor so he could gather more information, he needed to be a genius so he could suggest new technological ideas, and while he had an MBA, those skills were not quite related to what needed to be done. This was where Bulma would come in, hopefully, if she was willing to assist him. He would have to keep working on that. Get closer to her, maybe get her to trust him, and she would be more keen to hear the things he wanted to tell her. Vegeta could sense that she kept her sharp tongue to herself because she had to, and in order for her to want to listen to him, she would have to at least like him a little bit. As a person, not in a romantic way...

He frowned at himself in the mirror, rubbing his chin, which was becoming a bit scruffy. Anyone with half a brain could tell that his new assistant Bulma was very attractive. It was an instinctual thing. Even though she was petite, her legs were quite long and were shaped nicely. Not skinny chicken-legs, and not bodacious curvy ones, simply nice looking. She dressed in a feminine style that flattered her slight hourglass figure, accentuating her small waist, which Vegeta noticed had already caught the attention of several men in the office. He only felt derision for them in that moment. Every time he hired a new assistant they saw her as new eye candy, and while the suggestive remarks they had made to his previous assistants only made him laugh (as long as they weren't over-the-top inappropriate, although he found those to be funny sometimes too), he really hoped they wouldn't do that to Bulma. He felt she was too good for that.

Her peculiar coloring also added some intrigue. He hadn't seen hair quite like hers before. He wasn't going to lie, he thought her to be a very good looking woman, which was odd for him, since he was very, _very _picky about women, as most that he found physically attractive repulsed him mentally, and vice versa. Bulma somehow had both going for her; she was intelligent but not in-your-face about it (most of the time), and she had a quiet beauty about her that he liked.

He admitted to himself that his own interest in her came about partially because she had absolutely none in him, or not obviously, anyway. Once a woman liked him, he automatically thought there must be something wrong with her. Not out of low self confidence, oh no, he knew he was plenty egotistical, but he was self aware of his type. He wasn't handsome in the traditional sense, he didn't think, aside from his muscular stature, but more in a dangerous and exotic bad-boy type of way. Any woman that was trying her best to attract him right from the beginning he thought to be desiring a man of his stereotype, not him as who he was, even if he might fit into it well. This helped him if he was looking for something that wouldn't last very long, which admittedly, was what he usually had in mind, but for him to be legitimately attracted to a woman it was difficult for everything to match up for him.

He sighed, grabbing the shaving cream out of the medicine cabinet. _For someone who works for me, I'm paying far too much attention to her appearance._

Vegeta had hired many attractive women before, yet he hadn't found himself personally drawn to any of them. Part of it was a mental block, as he didn't want to complicate matters at work, the other part was the wanton behavior on the part of the women he hired. He had previously attempted to hire women who liked him and wanted to please him, since he deduced it would be easier to convince them to assist him if they were attracted to him, but when he found that none of the women were really that intelligent, he found them to be useless and disposed of them.

Nancy in particular had been annoying in her advances, which he found even more annoying once he realized the piece of paper stating she had a degree in engineering meant jack and shit since the only intelligence she seemed to show was filing his papers in alphabetical order, but even worse had been his assistant before that, Alexa. To the delight of his underlings, she started showing up to work wearing increasingly provocative clothing in an attempt to seduce him. He had thought it was funny at first, and hell, he thought it was sort of intriguing, but it was quickly becoming a distraction for other men in the office and she hadn't shown much intellectual prowess either, again, despite her degree and her father's involvement in the scientific community.

Bulma, on the other hand, was just as intelligent as her several degrees claimed she was, and she was witty and fiery to boot, even if she kept it bottled up most of the time for the sake of being appropriate. He couldn't help but smirk every time he said something to her, purposefully baiting her, and her mouth would tighten into a thin line for a moment, as if suppressing a nasty retort, and then she would respond with what seemed like a watered down version of what she originally intended to say. At least, that was how Vegeta interpreted it.

Just the day before, almost everyone had gone home and she had been nearly jumping out of her seat in anticipation to go home and do whatever it was she needed to do. He had beckoned her into his office and she came in with a hopeful little smile, thinking he would tell her she could leave. Instead, he asked her to go back and reorder the reports handed in for that day, guaranteeing her at least another hour of work. Her face fell like that of an admonished child, and he watched with glee as her face contorted into a confused frown as she bluntly let out her feelings.

"I thought you were going to tell me I could go home..."

"Hn. Nope." He looked back to his computer, and as she turned away, he stopped her. "Oh, and go downstairs to the cafeteria and get me a sandwich."

He couldn't control the twisted smile from spreading across his features, flashing her his teeth. He rarely grinned that big, but it had just come out full force. She froze mid-step, and slowly turned around, her mouth forming that thin line again. Her expression already said it all. _Did you just ask me to get you a fucking sandwich?_ He chuckled at the memory, reliving the sick pleasure he felt from pissing her off over something so little. Her lips pouted for moment, and then she broke into a grin herself, yet he could detect a certain slyness beneath it.

"Well of course, Vegeta. I'll be _right_ back." She nearly sang out, walking calmly out of his office. As she walked away towards the back of the office to the elevator, he could see her shaking her head to herself, saying something. Rather than making him angry, it just amused him more. He realized he was being a little cruel, but he was enjoying every second of it. Even though he had first intended it as a joke to see if she would actually do it, he was hungry and busy, damn it, and it was her job to do what he asked her to do, even if it was slightly demeaning.

She was back upstairs in barely three minutes with his sandwich. She had gently set it on his desk with a smile and walked away without a word, which he hadn't minded. Just twenty minutes later she poked her head back in.

"Hey Vegeta, I'm done, so, do you need anything else or can I go now?" Her tone of absolute confidence caused him to look up.

"You're done already?"

She paused long enough for her sly smile to return. "Uh huh."

He nodded slightly, perhaps out of recognition. He couldn't mask his surprise. She had completed an hours work in twenty minutes and she was rubbing it in. He would certainly have to check up on it later just because she had finished so fast, but he knew she was no slacker and she had probably completed it legitimately. He simply turned away from her and waved his hand, signaling she could go. She lingered at the door for a moment.

"Hey."

He swiveled back around in his chair.

"What?" He asked.

She smiled at him and gave him a little wave. "Bye Vegeta. See you tomorrow." She turned and walked away, and Vegeta had been caught off guard. She had wanted him to acknowledge her as she bid him goodbye, which he understood, but at the same time didn't. Why had she found that necessary?

Simply put, Vegeta found her interesting. She had been easy to get a hold of, which was very fortunate for him, as the majority of the people who could possibly help him were doing something related to their field and were therefore unattainable. He could tell that regardless of her quick temper, on the inside she was a good and optimistic person, which would help him in his plans, and every act of kindness towards him didn't seem to be in a self serving manner, which somehow pleased him greatly. There was a big difference in someone smiling at you because they felt like they had to in order to move up in the world (perhaps even in an attempt to bed their boss, earning themselves a good position based upon his favor) and someone smiling because they wanted to, as it came naturally. Every time she smiled at him, there were little undertones in what she was trying to express with it. He supposed everyone was like that, but each time, she was earnest with it. She simply felt different.

So, mentally, she was a definite step up from his previous assistants, as she was a bit more of a challenge even though they were hardly on even ground, and she didn't attempt to be obsequious with him, which he liked. He thanked his lucky stars she had somehow fallen into his lap, or more like Chichi had put her there.

Now, he just had to get her to trust him, or want to trust him, and he felt a little nauseated by the idea of being forced to be nice to her, so how was he going to do it?

He shook his head and began lathering up his face for a shave. _She should just try and seduce me. That would make everything so much easier. _

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><p>"Now, Vegeta tends to do something to his assistants..."<p>

Time to panic. "_Oh god, what_?"

"Well... He keeps them for a very short period of time, and then he fires them."

A pause. "Oh... That's it?"

"What did you think I meant?"

Bulma looked up at Goku, her eyebrow raised. "Are you really that naïve?"

"Huh?"

The ding of the elevator sounded and they both stepped out. It was Friday morning, and they had both been walking up to the building at the same time and had subsequently fallen into an engrossing conversation where Goku was trying to warn her about something, but she had to tease it out of him.

"I thought it was going to be something really legitimately bad." She said.

"You think being fired suddenly without any specific reason isn't bad!" Goku exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. "I'd consider that terrible!"

They reached her office and Bulma set down her Chanel bag in a desk drawer."Heh." Bulma took a haughty tone, only half joking. "He wouldn't dare fire _me_."

Goku rubbed the back of his head, leaning against her door jamb. "I dunno, Bulma, you shouldn't get too confident. Vegeta's pretty hard to predict."

Bulma nodded, thinking it over for a moment. Vegeta seemed to like her okay, as he wasn't as rude to her as he was the first couple of days, but that wasn't a hard thing to accomplish since he had been keeping their communication to a minimum. He had made expectations pretty clear for her; take messages, keep everything organized, do whatever he asked her to, and make coffee.

"Yeah..." She replied halfheartedly, her mind somewhere else.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sullen looking Chichi walking by, and she just about knocked Goku over as she ran to her.

"Chichi!" She said in a worried tone, grabbing her friend's arm. When Chichi turned to look at her, Bulma couldn't stifle a gasp. She looked as if she hadn't slept all night. Bulma felt really bad for her, knowing that the meeting the day before didn't look like it went well, but she didn't think it had been _that _bad, after what Chichi had said to her after.

"_Ugh, Vegeta is such a jerk. He and I are going to talk more tomorrow, but as I'm officially not in trouble, I'm going to relax for today. I'll talk to you after work."_

Even though that hadn't explained everything, Bulma had felt confident that everything would be okay. In an uncharacteristic move, however, Chichi had skipped out rather quickly after work. Since Vegeta made Bulma stay longer to do some silly stuff for him, she didn't have the chance to catch up with her, and Chichi hadn't returned her calls or texts. Bulma assumed Chichi needed some space to think things over, and she rationalized Chichi's behavior to herself, knowing that sometimes she could shut up like a clam when under stress. Bulma thought she should keep her distance, but that didn't stop her from getting anxious anyway. Whenever her friend did this, she would get so irrationally worried, since most of the time Chichi did this it turned out to be over trivial things, but when it came to this particular time, Bulma had a bad feeling.

Chichi only looked at her with no response, as if she could tell what Bulma was thinking. "Chichi, are you okay?"

Chichi rubbed her eyes a bit, again signifying that she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. "Yeah, I'm alright." She laid her purse down on her desk, and when she looked up again she noticed Goku standing a bit behind Bulma with a sheepish look on his face. If she had the energy, she would have acknowledged him. "I have to go straight in to see Vegeta, but I'll talk to you after work, and I won't skip out this time, okay?" Chichi somehow managed a small smile even though she looked and felt terrible, just to solidify her sincerity, and Bulma appreciated the gesture.

She looked behind her to see Vegeta staring right at them through the glass. She was a little surprised by this, unnerved that he had been watching without her knowing. Once he made eye contact with Chichi, he raised one eyebrow, as if asking a question. Bulma looked back to Chichi, wanting to ask a few questions herself.

Chichi began slowly inching over to Vegeta's office, turning back to say, "I'll talk to you later, B." Bulma nodded, feeling a little sick as Chichi opened the door to the office and walked in. She sighed out of frustration and worry, hating that she didn't know what was going on.

"Wow, she didn't look so good." Goku said behind her in a concerned tone.

"No..." She put her hand up to her face out of worry. "No, she didn't..."

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><p>Chichi stood by the side of Vegeta's desk, running her hand over it absently. Vegeta still looked at her with a questioning glare, and she tried not to think about it, since it would just make her more furious. She felt the whole situation was so unfair, so messed up, but she had no one to thank but herself, and certainly Vegeta didn't feel any different. Were she to ask, he would be happy to fill her in on just how much of a fool she had been, agreeing to his silly demands without knowing exactly what she had been agreeing to, but out of her curiosity she had thrown caution to the wind and acted impulsively.<p>

As much as she regretted that, she knew she had to answer for her actions. To her irritation, she was being strong-armed into a situation where there was only one right answer, Vegeta's answer. She loathed being a participant in his game now more than ever. She pointedly looked away from him, not afraid to show her hatred for him in that moment.

Vegeta wasn't in the mood for her pouting.

Well?"

She finally looked at him, staring at him hard, trying to put all of her feeling into her eyes so that hopefully he would understand what he was making her do, and how much it hurt her, and could potentially hurt her friendship. What she saw looking back was nothing but an emotionless void...

It scared her.

_Does he feel anything?_

You already know, you bastard... You already know."

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><p>AN: Hope you guys liked it! Getting a little sci-fi here... Please review!


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